Paradise
by Starnyx
Summary: Riddick is cast out of the Necromongers and mercs are on his back again. When he crash lands on a low tech, wild west type planet called Paradise, a local woman helps patch him up.
1. Summary

**FORMALITIES**

**COPYRIGHTS: **All characters mentioned from the movies _Pitch Black, The Chronicles of Riddick _is copyrighted to Universal Studios. I do not claim any ownership over them. The manner of their use and everything else inParadise is the creative creation of FanFic Member Starnyx and is not for commercialization.

**RATING SUBJECT TO CHANGE:**

**T FOR:**  
-Language: medium  
-Adult Themes: mild  
-Violence: medium  
-Other: I am not sure how everything is going to play out, so I might change the rating according to how the story develops

**SUMMARY:** Riddick is cast out of the Necromongers and mercs are on his back again. When he crash lands on a low-tech, wild west type planet called Paradise, a local woman helps patch him up. He needs to get off-planet before the mercs or Necros show up and cause problems for the farmers on this world. However, the longer Riddick stays, the more he realizes that life on the planet is not as idyllic as its name suggests. Admittedly, this is more of a morality tale than The Furyan's Return. Hope I don't get preachy, though.

This one is slow going. I won't be posting near-everyday like I was before.


	2. Lost

Chapter 1

Paradise: Lost

AN: changes made 11.8.07

Lightening struck not too far away, and the rain was making the ground soggy and hard to run on. But he ran on anyway, the breath ragged in his lungs, and his chilled breath burst in white puffs from his lips. Tree branches reached out to tear at his arms and face, and thick undergrowth tore at his pants. Somewhere along the way his goggles had been ripped from his head. He'd have to worry about that later. Right now it was night, and his shined eyes saw easily.

He was on the run… again. His tenure as ruler of the Necromongers was short lived when he refused to undergo the conversion process. Didn't matter – he wasn't cut out for ruling anyone anyway. But, they had run him out, threatening the non-believer until he had to steal a fast ship and get away. Of course, it was just what every merc in the system was waiting for. They were like hounds to the fox ,and he had had to use all the tricks up his sleeve to outwit them. One persistent son of a bitch had managed to tail him the longest and taken shots at the vessel. Riddick had barely been able to maneuver around a nebulous gas cloud hoping to disperse his ship's ion trail.

It worked, but the already damaged ship had fried its circuits as well. He'd had to muscle the ship into a crash landing on the furthest habitable dustball. The ship was too trashed to stay on board, and he had probably sprained his left wrist if he hadn't broken it. The console had nearly collapsed in on him, busting a few ribs and cutting deeply into his stomach. It hadn't taken long for predators to catch on to his scent. He was grateful his legs hadn't broken in the crash.

Now, running through the dense forest, he had dozens of small cuts and gashes all over his body. His blood was washed away by the rain. But, the worst injury was the over six-inch gash across his stomach. He clutched the gash in his belly and prayed his intestines stayed on the inside for awhile longer.

Something or some_things_ were chasing him. He could hear their hungry howls getting closer, and he knew they were tracking his blood. He had to get out of this thick forest, and someplace he could defend himself better, maybe even get the slash in his belly patched up.

He wasn't sure if he could keep running in this condition. Then he saw a shape silhouetted against the dark sky in the next lightening flash. It looked like a structure. Maybe he was finally reaching a town and could find somewhere to hide out until morning.

The animals were nearly at his heels. He saw eyes flashing, white teeth gnashing behind him as they lopped along easily through the forest. But, he was almost there, just a few more yards.

He trudged through a freezing shallow creek and came out the other side panting. Then he burst through a thicket into a clearing around the structure before collapsing to his knees and catching his breath, shiv gripped in one hand. The structure looked like a small cabin, and there was the faint glow of candle or firelight coming from inside. Normally, he wouldn't have wanted to come in contact with clueless civilians, but he didn't have much choice.

The next moment the door flew open, and a black shape stood silhouetted against the light inside. There was something long and cylindrical in the arms that pointed out in the darkness – a shotgun.

The shotgun scanned the darkness and fired once in the direction of the howling and not far from him. There was yipping and the sound of retreat, and then the sounds of the storms were all that was heard.

Riddick clutched his gut and moaned weakly before collapsing into a heap on the muddy ground.

"Who's there?" a woman's voice asked sternly, her shotgun trained on the form.

She moved closer but didn't put down the gauge. She used her foot to kick over his body.

Riddick looked up and saw the barrel of the shotgun lower. Then there was a hooded woman, rain dripping around her, and her face distorted in concern. She had dark almond eyes and perfect olive skin.

Lightening radiated over her head, and he thought she looked like an angel like that. Riddick would have told her if he hadn't pass out just then.


	3. Warm in Bed

Chapter 2

Paradise: Warm in Bed

AN: Thanks for the early feedback and encouragement! Always looking for more! Changes made 1.9.08. I thought I had changed this before, but must not have. I gave Riddick a different alias is the only major change.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned wishing for the oblivion of deep sleep again. Now every ache, cracked rib, scratch and gash was pulling him from sleep. His wrist felt heavy and throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He felt something constricting his chest down to his waist, and his uninjured hand went to his belly. Gauze covered a tender spot where his belly had been sliced up pretty bad. He felt stitches under the padding and gauze strips wound around his torso, tightening up his ribs. Well, at least someone knew enough to patch him up.

He opened his eyes slowly and saw immediately that a cloth had been tacked up over the only window in the room. Weak sunlight filtered through the gap around the cloth and he wondered how long he'd been out. He was in a small four-poster bed covered with a patchwork quilt and naked underneath. It was the first real bed he'd slept in in… too long to remember. The walls were neatly whitewashed but bare. There was a small wooden bureau in one corner and a side table with a ceramic water pitcher and glass.

Just then he was powerfully thirsty and tried to sit up enough to reach the pitcher. His chest and gut erupted in pain and he grunted back onto the bed, panting while beads of sweat burst out on his forehead.

The door opened and the woman stood there, a calm smile on her full lips. "I see my patient is awake." She spoke with a slight lilt to her voice.

She walked over to his bedside and rested strong but smooth fingers on his wrist checking his pulse. She smiled looking pleased. She seemed to ignore his glittering silvery eyes.

"Still a bit feverish but better," she said more to herself than to him.

Then she poured some water from the pitcher into the glass reached a hand behind his head to help lift it enough to drink. He sipped the water gratefully.

"My name is Dinalla," she said politely. "You were quite injured when you found your way here."

She had dark brown hair that curled softly to her waist, dark almond-shaped eyes and smooth skin that was sun-bronzed by outdoor work. She wore a roughly woven dress and an apron over it.

"Thanks" he said when she pulled the glass away.

She lowered him back down. "You have some cracked ribs and a pretty bad cut on your abdomen. I think your wrist is sprained, not broken, though. You should try not to move much until you're healed." She got up and retrieved something from the other room. "You are welcome to stay here until you can travel. If you need me to send word to your people –"

"I have no people. I crashed here," he replied.

Dinalla cocked her head in thought. "We don't get many visitors here. But, we can discuss that when you are better."

She handed him something that looked like a really long angled bottle with a narrow tip.

"I'm sure you need to relieve yourself. Just leave it by the bedside. I'll get you something to eat."

She smiled as she left and closed the door to give him privacy. She had been right. The instant she'd said it, he'd realized he bladder was ready to burst. He took the longest and most satisfying piss of his life nearly filling the bottle.

Dinalla returned several minutes later with a bowl of steaming broth. First, she set the bowl on the side table and then wedged herself behind his back and hefted him into a sitting position. Riddick gritted his teeth in pain and tried not to use his stomach muscles at all. Once she got him mostly upright, she propped pillows behind him.

"You didn't tell me your name," she said as she sat next to him on the bed and reached for the broth. "I don't want to pry, but what should I call you?"

She held the bowl and spoon scooping some up and blowing to cool it. His mouth watered at the smell, but he doubted he had the strength to hold the spoon. She fed him slowly. It was bitter, and he grimaced.

She laughed. "Sorry. I put some jengus root in it to help fight the infection."

Riddick sipped some more broth and thought over her question. He had headed for a planet at the edge of the galaxy, so it was less likely anyone here knew of the infamous Richard B. Riddick. And, she had said the planet didn't get many visitors. But, still, someone might recognize his name and decide to cash in the bounty on him.

"Rick," he said between sips. "Just call me Rick."

"Alright... Rick. Nice to meet you." She smiled.

Riddick looked up to see a small boy, maybe eight years old, standing in the doorway. He had mussed long hair, lighter than Dinalla's, wide eyes and a dirty face. He wore a long tunic and pants of the same coarse cloth. He stood totally still and looked a bit frightened. Then he ran away.

"Your son?" Riddick asked.

Dinalla smiled sadly. "No, not by birth I suppose. I found him as a babe, abandoned in the woods and in worse shape than you. I call him Puck. He doesn't speak."

"Are you in the habit of taking in strays?" Riddick asked as he finished the soup, and Dinalla set it on the table.

She laughed again, and he noticed he liked her laugh. It was musical and easy on the ears.

"I just figure if someone shows up practically dead on my doorstep, I have to do my best to try to help him."

"So, you're some kind of nurse?" Riddick was suddenly feeling very tired, and he slurred the words. He realized too late she had added something else to the broth to knock him out.

She carefully removed the pillows and helped him lay back down. "Something like that. Rest now."

She picked up the bowl and bottle and turned to leave. He was asleep before she even closed the door.


	4. Modesty & Humor

Chapter 3

Paradise: Modesty and Humor

AN: Changes made 1.9.08. 

Riddick drifted in and out of unconsciousness. It was a blissful, dreamless kind of sleep even for his Furyan brain. But, it was hard to know how long he slept.

When he did finally regain consciousness, no light tried to filter through the gap around the window. He actually felt very well rested, better than he had before. Even the aches and pains had subsided somewhat. Except for his wrist and gut.

He could hear movement coming from beyond the door, and he tried to sit up. He gasped in pain, agony echoing all along his torso and then laid back panting and waiting for the pain to subside.

Dinalla must have heard him because a minute later she stepped through the door with an oil lantern turned low and a small box. Firelight flickered beyond the door.

"Stomach injuries are the worst. You never know how much you need those muscles until you can't use them," she said smiling sympathetically and walking towards him.

Riddick grunted.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked with genuine concern. She set the lantern on the table and then sat beside him with the box. Riddick covered his eyes with his hand until she'd set down the lantern.

"Woulda been better if you hadn't have drugged me," he remarked sourly.

She just laughed and propped him into a sitting position again. "I figured it was just easier than you pulling the male macho routine with me. You look more rested, that's for true."

Her hands started poking his flesh. They were smooth and cool with slight calluses. She took a small glass jar from her box and opened it. Riddick grimaced at the smell.

"Yes, favelberry salve doesn't smell very good, but it's great at taking away infections."

She smoothed the ointment over the worst of his gashes and then began to pull down the bed sheet that had pooled around his naked torso. Riddick clutched the sheet to himself in surprise.

"Modesty? That's novel," Dinalla laughed. "Relax, Rick. I need to clean and redress the wound so it will heal quickly."

"Sorry, but how do I know you won't take advantage of a poor sick man?" he teased back but released the sheet.

She laughed again. "Modesty _and_ a sense of humor?" Her brow arched as she looked up at him.

He chuckled too and instantly regretted it as his ribs burned again

Dinalla tucked the cloth around his hips and quickly set to work unwinding the gauze from around his waist. As she did, her long dark tresses swept over his body and Riddick had trouble controlling his body's response to her nearness. He breathed in her clean smell. Like a practiced nurse, she ignored him and peeled away the padding over the stitches.

"Mmm, still weeping, but much better color," she remarked to no one in particular. "I'm afraid it will leave a scar, however. I'm a much better seamstress than a surgeon." She smiled apologetically at him.

"Scars I can handle." He inspected his wound while she dabbed it with a clean cloth and put more salve on. "You did a good job."

"Thank you," she replied. "And, as for your clothes, the shirt was unsalvageable, but I managed to repair the worst damage to the pants and your boots are fine. I'll bring you a new shirt to wear after I go into town tomorrow."

"Thank you. I don't have any money to give you. I might have something of use in my crashed ship but –"

"We'll worry about that later," she said redressing his wound. "Mostly I barter with the local villagers for what I need. We'll see what you can do once your better healed."

Riddick nodded his head.

"You're probably hungry again. I'll be right back."

"Are you going to try to poison me again?" he asked with a trace of humor in his voice.

Dinalla chuckled. "No, no need to. You should be able to rest easily on your own now the fever has broken."

She returned in a moment with another bowl. This soup was thicker and even has small pieces of meat and vegetables, and this time he held the bowl and fed himself. Riddick devoured it quickly.

"What planet is this?" he asked as he ate.

"Paradise."

"This doesn't look like any paradise to me," he replied wryly.

She chuckled. "Well, the first settlers here were looking to move away from what they believed was corruption of technology on other worlds. We don't even have a spaceport," she explained. "The people here are simple, hard-working farmers. A bit... superstitious at times and suspicious of newcomers."

He looked closely at her but saw no deception in her face. "So, me being here is a problem?" he asked simply.

She shrugged. "I've been here nearly twenty years, and they still don't fully accept me."

"Not born here?" he asked.

She shook her head and her curls bobbed. "My mother brought me here when I was eight. Lived here ever since." She looked a bit sad for a moment.

"Just the two of you? Why here?"

Dinalla looked uncomfortable at the question, brows furrowed.

"Sorry," Riddick said gruffly. "None of my business." 

"No, it's ok. I just… haven't thought about it in a long time." She looked up into his face, her long hair framed by the glow in the next room. "My father was a very jealous man. He would suspect my mother of having affairs all the time and get... violent. As I got older he started to get violent with me too. My mother feared for me, so she finally paid someone to smuggle us off our homeworld and brought us here, as far away from my father's influence as she could manage."

"Where is your mother now? Thought it was just you and the boy here."

"She died about 5 years ago. Cancer," she said and bowed her head.

"Cancer? There are cures for that now."

This time when Dinalla chuckled there was a trace of bitterness. "Not on Paradise. She refused to let me take her to clinic for help. Too afraid my father would trace her DNA and find us."

Riddick listened carefully and finished his soup. When he looked up, she was studying his eyes closely.

"How did you get eyes like that?" she asked barely above a whisper.

He didn't respond in anyway for so long that she doubted he had heard her question. It brought back the memory of Jack so clearly and painfully he couldn't breath for a milli-second. Just as she opened her mouth to repeat the question he blurted out a response.

"Mining colony... Taraus 9. Surgical shine job on my eyes for work."

Her eyes scanned his physique and seemed to accept his answer. Then she peered at his eyes intently and leaned closer, cocking her from side to side inspecting his eyes. "Hmm... a hydro-luminescent film ... interior rear wall of the retina," she spoke in that far away voice again, speaking more to herself than to him, "... destruction of the cones... increased rod receptivity... resulting in enhanced night vision." She sat back up straight. "Remarkable. So, you need sunglasses during the day?"

"Yes, goggles. Lost them running through the forest." He frowned. Then asked, "Sure you aren't a doctor or something?"

She smiled and pulled away. "Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away. My mother taught me some things before she died. She used to be a doctor on our planet."

She looked down at her hands and neither spoke for a moment.

"You should get some sleep. It's late. You still have a ways to go before you're healed completely." She began helping him lay back down again amid grunts.

Dinalla carefully collected the dishes and got up to leave. She smiled and closed the door.


	5. Home Sweet

Chapter 4

Paradise: Home Sweet…

_AN: Much thanks to Amita4ever for beta-ing this story. If you have read the first 3 chapters, I did make several minor and some major changes to them based on her suggestions._

Over the next two days, Riddick slept off and on. Dinalla waited dutifully on him and was pleased by his progress. She gave him sponge baths but let him attend to his more manly parts by himself.

By the third day, she allowed him to get up from his sick bed. She had repaired his black cargo pants which were now mostly thread with some fabric in between. If that was the state of his pants, his shirt must have been in tatters. She also found him a dark gray shirt that was a little big for even his broad shoulders.

Dinalla shrugged when she saw him. "I bought the size Vera's husband wears, and he is a bear of a man."

She'd even included his curved blades and holsters, but he decided against wearing them for the time being.

She helped him dress and then move from the bed to the dinner table. The table was a rough-hewn trestle table. He sat on one of the benches while Dinalla pulled fresh baked bread from a wood burning oven, and Puck set the table avoiding Riddick's gaze. It had all the easy comforts of routine and happiness of home life. It was truly foreign to Riddick, and he watched it with curiosity.

The rest of the cabin was one large room in the same whitewashing as the bedroom except on these walls there were wood framed sketches of nature scenes. In the kitchen area was the only door. There was a large china cabinet with mismatched dishes on the side near the hearth. Another large armoire of drawers and shelves with glass jars of what looked like herbs on the far side of the door. Flowers and other planet life hung from the ceiling in one corner behind the door. Beyond the kitchen there was a large living area with a fireplace, a rocking chair, a winged back chair and small stool, and various small tables. Low bookshelves lined the far wall and on them were antiquated texts from various worlds including Shakespeare from Earth and dar' Khalen from Regulas. Woven rugs were placed in key spots on the floors of the living and kitchen areas. Oil lanterns and candles were distributed throughout the rooms, but the windows along the kitchen area were covered with simple floral curtains. The filtered light of late afternoon was enough to light the kitchen table.

Riddick quickly realized there was no other bed in the cabin, but what looked like bedrolls were shoved into the corner of the living area.

"Should take your bed back," Riddick said as a large platter was placed in the center table of the table piled high roast carcasses and vegetables.

Dinalla smiled. "Don't be silly. You can barely get yourself out of the bed. Imagine if you had to get up off the floor? Besides," she said as she turned to Puck, "I have someone to keep me company. Puck never would sleep in a bed. I don't know why."

Puck just gave them a big toothy grin.

Dinalla took each person's plate in turn and served up the roasted meat and vegetables in a thick meaty gravy with bread. Once she had sat down again, Riddick dug into his food with ferocity, shoving food into his mouth before finishing swallowing the previous bite. It stunned Dinalla and Puck so much that they stopped with the forks halfway to their mouths.Riddick quickly realized no one else had moved to eat and looked up. He saw their stares and cursed himself for being too used to prison. He carefully chewed the food in his mouth and swallowed noisily.

"Don't usually have meals like this," he said by way of apology.

Dinalla and Puck looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"Obviously, not!" Dinalla snickered. "The only time I have seen anything eat that fast is half-starved dog we took in once."

Riddick couldn't help but smile crookedly in his embarrassment.

"No worries, mate," she said. "We will not let you go hungry here, I promise. Right, Puck?" She turned to the boy who nodded up and down eagerly.

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly, but by the end Riddick was struggling to sit up straight, his stomach muscles seeming to have lost all strength. Dinalla helped Riddick back to bed with one of his arms over her shoulder and sharing his weight. They were halfway to the bedroom when someone knocked at the door. Both froze and Dinalla looked up at Riddick, eyes wide. No one spoke.

There was another knock. "Mistress Dinalla? It's Mrs. Hewey come to thank you," the woman's voice said.

"Oh, Mrs. Hewey… one moment please," Dinalla said pleasantly as she hurried to get Riddick into bed. Thankfully, he remained quiet except for grunts as he tried to lay back down.

She shut the door to the room and motioned for Puck to remove the extra set of dishes to the wash basin. Then Dinalla opened the door with a smile plastered on her face.

"Mrs. Hewey... how nice of you to stop by. We were just finishing supper," she said.

The older plump woman stepped in carrying a wicker basket covered in a cloth napkin. She wore a floral patterned dress of finer quality than Dinalla's and a broad rimmed bonnet.

"I brought you some eggs for helping the calf we were having trouble with." The woman uncovered the basket to reveal it full of bright white eggs.

"Oh, thank you. So, he has gotten over the infection?"

"Yes, yes. Whatever you did worked like magic." The woman chuckled uncomfortably.

"No magic. I just used a poultice like you would for a person's infection. Well... just different herbs. Glad I could help," Dinalla said and patted Mrs. Hewey's hand pleasantly.

When it looked like the older woman would settle in to chit chat, Dinalla ushered the woman back out the door and breathed a sigh of relief when it was closed. It wasn't that she didn't like Mrs. Hewey; she'd always treated Dinalla with respect. But, her mysterious visitor would bring suspicion, and there was already a lot of suspicion regarding her. It would be better not to encourage more. But, at some point should was going to have to figure out a way to get Riddick off the planet, for both their sakes.

She turned back to see Puck making happy noises and licking his lips over the basket of eggs.

"Yes, it will be nice to have eggs again." Dinalla picked up the basket and flipped open the cellar door under a big rug near the armoire. "These will keep about a week."


	6. A Bit of Sunshine

**Chapter 5**

**Paradise: A Bit of Sunshine**

_AN: Special thanks again to Amita4ever for her feedback. And thanks to those readers and reviewers who keep me writing!_

The next day the sun rose bright and sunny, and the three ate a breakfast of scrambled eggs and leftover bread. Riddick ate with gusto again; he had never eaten anything besides powered eggs and that was a treat after months of protein waffles.

After eating amiably, Dinalla brought Riddick a gauzy scarf. "To cover your eyes with. You're coming outside today. You look like you need the sun."

Riddick felt silly with a scarf over his eyes, and it felt uncomfortably like when Johns was transporting him back to slam. But, he could see through it, and it did cut down on the painful light. Dinalla carried the rocking chair outside and guided him down the steps. Stepping down caused the stitches in his abdomen to pull, tugging uncomfortably down his groin. Riddick gritted his teeth, but finally he made it into the chair.

"Can you pluck grouse?" she asked.

"Grouse?" he grumbled and tried to ignore the pain.

Dinella chuckled and held up a tether with about a dozen limp birds tied to it. They were speckled brown and white.

"Puck can show you. Right, Puck?"

The boy smiled and sat on the front steps placing a wicker basket between himself and Riddick. The boy held a bird in one slight hand and began pulling feathers off starting at the head and working down. The removed feathers were placed in the basket. Riddick picked up a floppy bird body and looked it over dubiously before imitating the boy's motion.

Dinalla had been right. After his convalescence, it felt nice to be out in the sunlight and the simple rhythm of plucking the birds was relaxing as long as he sat back in the chair. He watched the boy whose expert hands flew over the birds putting Riddick's efforts to shame. It became a game of sorts as Riddick tried to keep up. Puck only smiled and maintained his pace.

Dinalla set about doing her chores, wide brimmed straw hat on her head, hair tucked under it, and well-worn gloves over her hands. She started cleaning a hutch that contained several rabbits, mucking out the single stall containing an old mule, and then weeding a vegetable garden containing new spring plants.

A water pump stood in the middle of the yard which was bordered on one side by a small stream gurgling along in the pleasant afternoon sunshine. Beyond the brook was the dense thicket of brush and trees that Riddick had run through. To his left he could see a dirt track perpendicular to the house. And, beyond that there were long, even rows of mostly weeds.

Riddick realized that the settlers who had colonized this planet hadn't just eschewed technology; they had transported themselves back in time. He remembered seeing old western movies on Earth, images of pioneers, farmers, and cowboys; this place reminded him of those movies.

In all his travels around the universe, he had never been any place more backwards and out of touch with the rest of the worlds. He was beginning to long for all the lights and brightness he'd always hated.

Soon enough the dozen birds were stripped of feathers and the basket was nearly full. Puck had piled the pinkish bodies on a step and turned to retrieve one and rolling it onto its back. Then suddenly something flashed in his hand - a long thin blade. Riddick's reaction was instinctual and instant; he tried to stand, crouch and reach for his shivs all at the same time. The result was immediate, debilitating pain and he fell out of the chair with enough sense to roll to the side so as not to land on his stomach. However, he managed to successfully fall on his cracked ribs. The world spun at a dizzying angle as he gasped for breath and then everything went blissfully black.

When he regained consciousness, he was on his back, a cool cloth to his forehead and both Dinalla and Puck standing over him.

"Are you alright? It seemed like... dunno... like you had a seizure," Dinalla said, frowning in concern.

Riddick was sure he had pulled some of his stitches and recracked his ribs. His chest and belly was on fire.

"No..." Riddick thought for a second. "Rough places... the mines," he said with gritted teeth.

Dinalla worked over the next several minutes to get Riddick upright and then to his feet. By the time she had him up the steps both of them were sweating profusely and panting from hard labor. Finally, she got him to the bed and laid him back down. She disappeared into the main room for a moment before returning with her medical kit again.

"Let's check the damage, boy-o," she said sympathetically.

Unraveling the gauze didn't take long and soon Dinalla could see the red smudges of blood on the pads. She clucked her tongue and peeled off the cloth. One end of the sutures had separated.

"You are a glutton for pain," she said smiling down at him.

He just grunted and waited patiently as she cleaned the area and strung a large curved needle with thick thread. The process was quick and Riddick didn't even twitch, but Dinalla could tell it pained him; his face was drawn and white, and sweat covered his body now. Getting him to sit up long enough to wind the bandages again took longer with more effort.

"Ok, take the rest of the day off," she joked, and he had to smile albeit grimly.

She took the kit back to the other room and returned shortly with a cup of steaming liquid.

"Drink it all. It will reduce the chance of infection again and make you sleep," she smiled wryly and watched Riddick's reluctance.

He sighed remembering the first time she had doctored his soup with a sedative and then he nodded in acceptance With her help, he was able to sip the entire steaming cup of bitter liquid and the now familiar numbness overtook him before he had even lain back down.

* * *

He wasn't asleep as long as he had been before because when he awoke he could smell the unmistakable aroma of cooking. Riddick's stomach grumbled in response. 

Very gingerly and extremely slowly, he rolled onto his side and got his legs over the side of the bed. It took some time to get to a standing position which caused his newly restitched stomach to burn. He shuffled carefully to the door and opened it.

Dinalla smiled. "Good timing. How are you feeling?"

"Like hell warmed over," he grumbled sinking carefully onto a bench at the dinner table that was already set, and Puck grinned at him across the table.

She chuckled. "You look it too."

"Anyone ever told you you have a horrible bed-side manner?" he asked more out of amusement than annoyance.

She smiled but didn't respond as she set out plates with what looked like the grouse now roasted and some kind mashed vegetable that was bright orange.

"Puck found something that must belong to you." Dinalla said and noddded at Puck who popped up from the table to dash to living area.

He returned in a moment carrying something over his outstretched hand. Riddick recognized his goggles and gratefully accepted them from a toothy Puck. Riddick slid the goggles over his now stubbly head and fit them into place. But, the low light of the room was really enough, so he peeled them off and set them to the side.

"Thanks," he said to Puck trying to smile encouragingly.

"He remembers the place he found them, so maybe we can trace it back to your ship," Dinalla spoke as everyone began digging into the meal. "Then we can take whatever you think is salvageable to the Oldtimer."

Riddick asked with food still in his mouth, "Oldtimer?"

"Yes, he is sort of a hermit... an eccentric. He has some of the only technology on this planet and a bit of a tinkerer, so he might even have a way to communicate and get a ship to pick you up."

Riddick understood the logic in that, but he also wasn't sure if that damned merc who had seemed to tail him the longest had given him up for lost yet. Getting a ride off the planet would prove very tricky. And, since there was no space port as Dinalla said, it wouldn't be possible to hijack a ship as he had done in the past.

Dinalla continued after swallowing a bite. "You have to be strong enough to travel. The Oldtimer is a ways away. He has a home in the mountains to the east they say."

"One thing at a time then."

"Yea, no more plucking birds. It's too dangerous," Dinalla said smiling and looking from Riddick to Puck.

Puck burst out laughing, and it was infectious enough that Dinalla and Riddick both laughed... until Riddick gasped and clutched his chest in pain.

The rest of the meal was spent discussing what on Riddick's ship might be salvageable and how to get the useful items back to the cabin. Since all she had was an old mule and no wagon, she would have to borrow one. That meant involving another person in this scheme which made Riddick uncomfortable, but he couldn't voice his disagreement for now.

The knock at the door was so sudden and violent that everyone inside the cabin froze. Riddick and Dinalla exchanged a look before she moved to help Riddick get up from the table. Once he was standing, he moved as quickly and quietly as he could - which wasn't easy considering his pain - to the bedroom and shut the door. He didn't make think he could make it all the way to the bed since he was already sweaty and weak from walking this far. He listened silently at the door.

Someone knocked again impatiently. "Mistress Dinalla! I need your help," the shrill voice said.

Puck grabbed the extra set of dishes and deposited them in the wash basin before retreating behind the rocking chair to peer over it towards the door. Dinalla smoothed her dress and tried to smile before she opened it. The girl was panting as if she had run all the way to Dinalla's house. She stepped into the house without invitation and removed her bonnet.

"Mistress Dinalla, I need something to make Larson Garrett fall in love with me. He's asked Samantha Parsons to the spring dance. I-I just can't let that happen," she said in a rush.

It was a trial for Dinalla not to roll her eyes. "Miss Violet, I have told you before, I don't make love potions."

"Please?" the girl pleaded. "If he goes with her to the dance, I'll die," the girl whined.

"I doubt that highly. You will just have to use your smile and winning charm, Violet."

The sarcasm was lost on the young woman. "Don't you think I have tried that already?" Violet asked as if she were talking to a child. "I have money. Here."

Riddick heard the chink of coins – a lot of coins – in a sack land on the kitchen table. He was sure it was a lot of money, and Dinalla could use it from what he'd seen. But, she didn't even seem to hesitate to pick up the purse and hand it back to Violet.

"Then it wasn't meant to be, child. Besides, it's not as if your father would let you marry Larson Garrett." Dinalla guided the girl back towards the door.

Violet scoffed. "I don't want to _marry_ him. I just don't want him to go to the dance with Samantha."

Suddenly a creak sounded from behind Dinalla's bedroom door. Violet stared hard at the door.

"Mistress Dinalla… is someone else here?" she asked curiously.

Dinalla chuckled. "Who else would be here besides me and Puck?" She hoped her beating heart wasn't echoing throughout the tiny cabin.

Violet looked carefully at Dinalla, but seemed to dismiss her suspicions.

"I don't understand why my father wants to marry you," Violet said vehemently. "I wouldn't want a witch for a step-mother anyway."

"You should watch your tongue, young lady." There was hard edge to Dinalla's voice now. "Now, go home, Violet."

Violet huffed but put her bonnet back on and stepped out the door.

Dinalla closed the door behind the pouting girl and was surprised at how angry she felt; her body vibrated with it and she had to consciously control her breathing. The girl had always been a spoiled brat, but her last outburst had brought up bad feelings in Dinalla. She hadn't had such a violent reaction since he mother had been alive.

The door to her bedroom opened and Riddick stood in the doorway. He immediately noticed the stern look on her face, the faint darkening to her cheeks and the stiff set of her shoulders. He wasn't sure if it was he or the girl that was to blame for her anger.

"Don't mean to be am causing you so much trouble," he said and meant it.

Dinalla shook her head and some of the tension left her. "No, _you_ aren't causing me any trouble," she said significantly. "I told you to these people were a little… superstitious." Sadness flickered across her face.


	7. Over My Dead Body

**Chapter 6**

**Paradise: Over My Dead Body**

_AN: Ta dum! Sorry it has been so long. I got buried with stuff, had to go to the ER, found out I have gall stones and need surgery, and had another bout of depression. SIGH Things seem to sort a back to normal, however. This chapter is not proofread, so there might be typos - forgive me! It is also a bit short but if I had added the next chapter, it would be too long._

In another attempt at spending some time in the sun, Dinalla had set out the chair again for Riddick. This time she avoided giving him any activity. But, it felt unnatural to him to just sit and do nothing. So, he played idly with his shivs, twirling them in his hands. He had always been a very active person, a necessity to avoid bounty hunters and survive once in the slam.

His stitches itched maddeningly and ached dully, but he refused the bitter steaming drink Dinalla had offered him that morning. He felt he needed to keep his head today. Last night's visit had given him an uneasy feeling. Too many people kept coming around. It would only be a matter of time before he was found out if he didn't get himself off this rock soon.

He dozed in the dappled sunshine of the yard while Puck and Dinalla set about doing chores in what seemed a long-worn pattern. It was unusual for Riddick to be relaxed enough to take more than cat-naps. But, there was something about the sunshine, the gentle shuddering of the trees in the wind and quiet scraping of Puck's rake that lulled him into a peaceful slumber without nightmares.

Riddick suddenly awoke to Dinalla's violent shaking. "Get up! In the house… now!"

There was an urgency to her voice that he didn't question. As he leaned on Puck to get up the stairs to the cabin, he finally heard what had motivated her into action – the sound of pounding hooves or something similar. By the sound of it, there were several people approaching. Riddick made it inside the door and leaned against the back of it to catch his breath. Puck looked up at him with eyes wide in askance.

"It's ok, kid," he grumbled and turned to peer the through slight gap in the slats of the door. The darkness of the interior would keep him well hidden.

Dinalla stood in the clearing of her yard, the shotgun raised to her right shoulder. The pounding hooves got closer and closer until five men rounded the tree-lined road. Dust puffed out behind them as one man took the lead and burst into the yard, seemingly ignoring Dinalla's raised gun.

The man tugged his reins and the dun-colored horse skidded to a stop. The others pulled up behind him and reached for their own rifles and pistols but did not pull them.

"Virgil Matthews… to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Dinalla's question may have been politely phrased, but her tone was icy.

"Good afternoon, Mistress Dinalla." He tipped his dusty hat and eyed the shotgun. A smile revealed uneven teeth. His hat was pulled low on his forehead, but stringy tendrils of hair hung down his neck. "My Violet told me she came by yesterday and that you refused to help her."

Dinalla lowered the shotgun to her hip, but Riddick could she that her finger was still on the trigger, muzzle leveled on the man.

"Yes, Violet paid me a call last night," she said smiling. "And, yes, I refused her request."

The man called Matthews seemed startled at her frankness. "She was very upset, I hope you know."

Dinalla seemed to restrain a sigh. "I have told her before… I don't do love spells."

Matthew shifted his weight in the saddle uncomfortably.

"She failed to mention that part, did she?" His silence was acknowledgment enough.

Dinalla continued. "I tried to explain to her that Larson Garrett was beneath her station, and she should leave him to Samantha Parsons as they were better matched in family and property. But, well… you know better than anyone that Violet gets an idea in her head and holds onto it. I am sure you would agree that the Garrett boy is far below her match."

During her polite speech, Matthews' face changed multiple shades of red until it was an unbecoming blotchy shade of purple. The tight set of his lips showed the anger that radiated along his nerves.

"I see," was all he could say for several breaths. "I apologize for the misunderstanding, Mistress Dinalla."

Now it was Dinalla's turn to be surprised. The tip of the shotgun lowered a few degrees. "No need to apologize. We were all young and inexperienced once upon a time."

Matthews grinned. "That maybe be true, but you and I are hardly young teens anymore. I don't understand why you won't accept my marriage proposal. It is a good match and would be beneficial to both of us."

The reaction was instantaneous – Dinalla raised the shotgun muzzle again, but held it tight to her hip and her face became a hard mask.

"I told you, Matthews. I don't want your help with my farm. Puck and I seem to do just fine on our own."

"Dinalla…" his voice held a false tone of sincerity, "this homestead is barely enough to live off of. If we were wed, the size of our joint property would rival anyone's in the territory." He gestured with a wave of his hand to include her small plot as well as the land beyond the road.

"Which is why you proposed to my mother... I am not stupid, Matthews. You want my property for the monopoly that it would give you over water rights. She said no then, too."

"But, I offer you more than I did your mother. I would make sure that Puck got the best of care and education in the premier boarding school –"

"Over my dead body," Dinalla said quietly as she tightened her grip on the gun.

He opened his mouth to argue, but the cabin door creaked open. Matthews and the four men drew their weapons and instantly aimed them at the door while Dinalla brought the butt of the gun to her shoulder again. Hearts raced as the door swung open a bit more to reveal Puck's grimy face, eyes huge set in his face.

Riddick had crouched lower behind the door, hands gripping the shivs tighter to the point of pain. He stifled a curse as Puck stepped outside. Riddick quickly turned his attention to Matthews and prepared to lunge and strip the man from his horse.

"Get – off – my – property," Dinalla said sternly, eye lined down the sight.

Matthews turned back to her, his gun still raised at the boy. He seemed to think about whether to fire or not, weighing whether it might increase his chances with her. He reluctantly lowered the gun and set it back in its holster.

"You are playing with fire, Mistress… Remember that." He suddenly kicked his horse hard enough to make it squeal as it turned and raced away. The others feel into line behind their leader and raced off as well.

Dinalla stood stock still in the yard, shotgun lowered and shaking gently as Puck approached her. His little arm reached up to touch her elbow, and she jumped as if she had been elsewhere for a moment.

She saw his face turned up at her, the question and worry in his eyes. She forced a smile on her face that was brighter than she felt and said, "Don't worry! No one is sending you away. I promise." She ruffled his hair and got him to smile his big toothy grin.


	8. Making Plans

_AN: Thanks again to Amita4ever for proofreading and giving feedback. Thanks to all who reviewed and sorry for the long delay. I have most of the next 2 chapters worked out. I hope to upload them soon._

**Chapter 7**

**Paradise: Making Plans**

Violet wailed into her pillow and beat her fists like the petulant child she was. She knew she shouldn't cry... it wouldn't do to have puffy eyes and a blotchy face.

_Not that it mattered now!_ She thought and renewed her crying for several minutes.

When he father had returned from his visit with Dinalla, he had grilled Violet on the slight Dinalla had supposedly given her. Violet had been forced to admit her reasons for visiting Dinalla in the first place.

Her father's wrath had been unstoppable, and Violet went from victim to instigator. To make matters worse, the scene at Dinalla's had made her father look bad in front of his men. That was more inexcusable than the fact that Violet had a crush on Larsen Garrett. Her father had been madder than ever... mad enough to forbid her from going to the spring dance. _HER! Violet Matthews!_

And, yet again, Dinalla had rejected his proposal. _That witch __doesn't__ deserve my father's attention!_

Violet sat up on her bed, sniffling and wiping away the tears from her eyes. She had NEVER EVER been forbidden from doing anything that she wanted to do. If Dinalla hadn't bewitched her father, none of this would be happening to Violet.

_It's all that woman's fault!_ Violet thought, derisively.

A slow smile twitched at Violet's thin pink lips, but it porcelain beauty was interrupted by a hiccup. Dinalla would pay for this insult to Violet's pride. She wasn't sure how yet, but Violet would have revenge and eliminate her father's desire to marry her at the same time.

* * *

Riddick sensed the tension in Dinalla after the encounter with Matthews and noticed the way she seemed to attack her normal chores with a distracted viciousness. She constantly looked at the road as if keeping a lookout for approaching horses. She tried to keep herself light-hearted and smiling in front of Puck, but Riddick could see past the thin-lipped smile. He made sure to keep his shivs handy... you could never be too careful.

One evening a week or so after the Matthews incident, Dinalla sat near the fire after supper and waited until she was sure that Puck slept curled in his bedroll. Then she nodded to Riddick and left the cabin as quietly as she could; Riddick followed silently.

A bright white moon was waning to a crescent. A secondary moon hung low and full on the horizon. The silvery light reflected in Riddick's steely eyes. The light of the moons cast a glow like the sun in daylight to Riddick. Dinalla's footsteps traced a well-worn path to the bank of the stream where she stood for several moments without speaking. Riddick, never one to talk much anyway, simply stood listening to the sounds of the night.

It was a rarity that he was planet-side long enough to notice all the different sounds around him. He heard a small animal trying to stealthily make its way through the bushes to his right. Various insects chirped and chittered to one another and some kind of bird made hollow caws infrequently in the night. Under all this, the stream's voice was constant and lulling.

Dinalla's intake of breath was loud in Riddick's eyes as she turned to him. "I promised you I would help you get off planets" she said quietly in the night.

Riddick didn't respond. He knew what was coming. How could he not?

"I think that time has come. I would have liked you to heal more before we traveled, but..." Dinalla's voice trailed off and she looked uncomfortable.

"Don't owe me an explanation. I'll get outta your hair as soon as I can git a ride off this rock," Riddick said matter-of-factly.

But, there was a piece of him that panged even as he said it. This had been about the most normal his life had ever been. Just like everything and everyone else in his life, though, it wasn't going to last.

Dinalla turned to smile weakly at him. "I'm sorry. Things have become... complicated. Tomorrow we need to start gathering what we can from your wreck. But, we'll have to wait a few days before we to travel to the Oldtimer."

Riddick's glittering eyes remained on Dinalla until she sighed and looked away.

"The spring dance... If I don't make an appearance... Well, people would expect me there or come looking for me if I don't go." She squinted her eyes as if looking past an old memory. "We don't need anyone else snooping around right now."

Riddick nodded and clenched his fists. He was used to being in charge, but being thrust into Dinalla's life had thrown him off, made him soft. He should have worked out a plan to get far away from here long ago. But, this low-tech planet meant he had to give over some of his usual control to someone who knew how to navigate things better than he did. A rarity since Riddick prided himself on being able to handle himself anywhere from a young age. He didn't like this… this relying on someone else.

"Lots to carry... Don't suppose you have anything with a motor, do ya?" He smiled at how ridiculous that sounded.

Dinalla grinned herself. "Nope. No hover crafts or lorries. Good ol' mule power."

The sound Riddick made was between a laugh and a scoff as he eyed the sad donkey standing in his pen. "... Someone'll hafta carry the mule."

"I have made other arrangements." She sighed heavily. "A friend is coming tomorrow to loan me his rig. Meanwhile, the dance is three days away. We gather what we can beginning day after the morrow."

Riddick straightened his back and nodded once before walking away.

* * *

The sun had barely risen over the fields when Riddick sensed more than heard the low rumble of a wagon approaching along the dirt road. Dinalla was already awake and outfitted in dress, apron and bonnet. Riddick emerged from the bedroom pulling the shirt over his head one-handed and stepped behind the door to watch carefully, expecting more trouble. But, Dinalla smiled brightly and waved from the middle of her yard where she had gathered large sacks of seed around her. The huge red-headed man smiled and waved a paw back from the driver's seat. This must be the friend she spoke of. Hopefully, Riddick could trust the man as well.

Dinalla motioned to Riddick to join her. He reluctantly stepped out from behind the door and into the bright yard, goggles already protecting his eyes. He walked slowly, giving the appearance of being relaxed while the whole time tense and ready to attack at the slightest threat. The tension made the stitches along his guts quiver.

"That's Amos... Vera's husband, come to help with my spring planting and loan me his wagon." Dinalla picked up the hem of her dress and hurried to greet the big man.

Riddick hung back, silvery eyes surveying the newcomer. He felt a little annoyed that his idyllic retreat was being invaded. He knew he couldn't hide forever, but it had been nice being anonymous for awhile. This man was an unknown entity as yet.

He could see Dinalla talking to the man who had registered the stranger's presence and almost immediately gone into a protective stance as he hopped down from the wagon. His melon-sized hands balled in fists and his back went ridged.

Riddick smirked; the man was almost a full head taller than Riddick, who was by no means short. The man was as big as a bear… from what Riddick remembered learning of bears on Earth. He had the giant biceps of one who did repetitive hard labor. If he did decide to challenge Riddick, he was sure the man would crush him in his grip if Riddick got close enough. The only thing to do would be to kill the behemoth quickly before he had a chance at a bear hug. Riddick would feel a moment of remorse at the necessity of killing someone who Dinalla seemed to be friends with.

Soon enough though, Amos' stance relaxed a little as Dinalla seemed to be explaining his presence there. What exactly she was telling him, Riddick couldn't be sure. Dinalla led the way back to Riddick and the big man lumbered alongside her.

"Rick… this is Amos. Amos… Rick."

Although Dinalla was smiling cheerfully, Riddick could tell that Amos was sizing him up and making the same assessment that Riddick had. Neither moved to shake hands; rather they nodded at each other.

Dinalla ignored the men's animosity and instead said brightly, "Rick can help you with some of the planting today."

Since the mishap when Riddick had needed to be restitched, he had steadily improved to be able to handle more and more chores. Dinalla said it was good for building up his strength, and Riddick had to concede that the exercise felt good on his atrophied muscles. There was something to be said about the usefulness of simple, hard work.

It took nearly an hour to unhitch the mules from the wagon and set up the plow. Dinalla and Puck had been working for weeks on clearing the rows of overgrowth and now pulled a few sparse weeds as Amos guided the team along. Riddick took up the rear with the bag of seed and strew them down the deep troughs. Dinalla and Puck doubled back and tamped the earth over the wheat berries.

A little after mid-day the majority of the few acres were seeded and they stopped for a meal of bread, some kind of cheese and fruit that Dinalla had stashed in a sack. She retrieved pottery jugs of cool brook water from under a group of shrubs bordering the field.

After the meal, Dinalla suggested that Amos let Riddick have a hand at the plow. Riddick raised an eyebrow at her half-smile but didn't protest. The big man positioned Riddick behind the plow and hollered instructions as the mules plodded along. Actually, the simple motion and physical exertion felt good on his body that was used to constant working out. If he was ever going to get off this rock, he would need his strength and speed back to fend off any mercs. By the end of his third row, Riddick earned a pat on the back, which almost knocked Riddick over, and gruff 'Good work' from Amos.

With everyone working as a team, the work was finished just before sundown and Dinalla invited Amos to stay for dinner. She dished out the hearty stew she had made for supper and fluffy biscuits. Everyone was starved from the hard work and gorged themselves. Amos, Dinalla and Puck ate with much laughter and reminiscing. Riddick kept his goggles on and made few comments.

In truth, he felt out of his element. Obviously, Amos and Vera were close to Dinalla and Puck and accepted them. Dinalla had midwived for Amos' five sons and the big man seemed to deeply respect her. Something panged deep in Riddick's belly, but he pushed it aside.

It was late into the night when Amos finally picked up his broad rimmed hat. "Vera will have my hide for being out so late," he said, teeth showing through his red beard.

Dinalla had to stand on tiptoes to hug him. "Give my best to Vera."

"Keep the mules and wagon as long as you need 'em. My plantin's done. I can walk home in the full moonlight," Amos said. He tipped his hat at Puck and Riddick and slipped out the door with Dinalla on his heels.

She followed Amos to the road where he turned and looked down at her with a look of concern on his broad face. "That man... Rick. There's something funny about him. You said he worked on a mining planet?"

Dinalla smiled and put her hand on Amos' arm. "I told you. He crashed, and I'm helping him until he can get off planet. He hasn't been anything but helpful if not a bit gruff," she reassured him. "Just… don't mention him to folks. You know how they treat strangers sometimes." She gave Amos a lopsided smile.

Amos patted her hand but didn't seem convinced. "Well, alright. But if you need anything..." His voice trailed off and he gripped her hand gently in his paw.

"I will..." She leaned up on tiptoes to kiss his stubbly cheek. "I promise. Get home now or Vera'll send out a posse for you."


	9. Far from a Fool

Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Paradise: ****Far from a Fool **

Over the next two days, Riddick, Dinalla and Puck trudged through the woods so many times that a new path was quickly worn under their feet and the weight of the equipment they carried.

It had taken half a day to find the spot of the crash. The thick forest had nearly overgrown the crash sight in several weeks since Riddick had found his way to the cabin. It took Riddick's know-how and Dinalla's simple tools to dismantle the ship - what was left of it.

The ship had settled and been sucked into the soggy earth from the periodic rains. Now the drier weather had caused the earth to solidify around the metal like an animal caught up in a tar pit and frozen in time.

The entire pilot's compartment was collapsed in on itself from the violent impact. Riddick couldn't remember how he had gotten out of the ship and now he wondered how it was possible he had survived at all. Half a wing was sheared off and wiring was spilling out of busted seams and torn metallic skin like a disemboweled beast.

No power went to anything anymore. The last of the battery power must have been sucked up from sitting out in the elements. It's not like Riddick had remembered to power down, being hunted by mercs and then animals as he had been. So, the first thing they removed was as much of the wiring as possible, rolling them into great coils and carrying them two at a time over their shoulders and looking like bandits with bandoleers across their chests. Again, Riddick was reminded the old Western vids from the orphanage. Next came the smaller components - levers, conduits, circuit boards - whatever could be easily carried by the three of them. Riddick didn't even bother with the heavier items like the engine system. There was no way he could carry it nor get it through the tangle of undergrowth let alone carry it on the wagon for untold kilometers. By the end of the day, his stomach burned and reminded him he was alive.

It was towards the end of the second day, the day of the dance, when they pulled the last bits from the craft.

Dinalla hummed under her breath and made good-natured jokes as they hauled their last load. Riddick could see her eagerness etched in the curve of her lips and brightness of her eyes. She was looking forward to the dance, and why shouldn't she? She had a community she belonged to, people who respected her and a life here among these people... no matter how out-of-sync this planet was.

Some of her good humor was rubbing off on Riddick. He found himself chuckling at Puck and Dinalla's antics, ignoring the tugs at his stitches. I reminded him of those old shows he would catch on vid-screen in one of the detention centers before being upgraded to prison. Parents... kids... going to school... hanging out with friends. No one got ever went hungry or had to steal their next meal or got ghosted. It had seemed unnatural to Riddick who grew up in an orphanage. Back then he had thought, "_Happily ever after_... what a bunch of crap."

But here, now, seeing Dinalla and Puck together... It almost felt _normal_. Perhaps, that was what dulled his senses and squashed the pangs of warning.

The evening was perfect. A warm breeze had taken away the early spring chill. They ate a simple supper and Dinalla pulled two pies from the oven at the last minute to cool as she bathed in her room. Puck eyed pies and stuck his fingers in the rich golden juices around the edges until Dinalla shooed him away. He pouted and sulked as he slinked to the living area.

Finally, Dinalla was ready to leave. She stood in front of Puck nervously smoothing the skirt to her best dress. It was the deep rich color of mahogany - which looked nearly black to Riddick's shined eyes - fitted through the bust and showing more cleavage than Riddick was used to seeing on her. Her hair was piled into a full upswept do' that showed off a graceful neck. The long full skirt crinkled as she walked and concealed black, laced boots. He had never seen her look so decidedly... female.

"How do I look?" she asked anxiously of Puck.

Puck made a great show of holding his chin, motioning with his hand for her to twirl. Finally, he nodded his approval and broke into a cheeky smile.

She laughed and ruffled his hair, then hugged him tightly to her. Puck tugged her sleeve and pouted.

"I'm sorry, Puck, but you need to be older. You can come next year, I promise," she said. "Neither of you get into any trouble. Ya hear?" she smiled as Riddick grumbled and Puck pouted.

The sound of a horse and carriage rumbling up the drive made Dinalla grab one of the pies, cover it with a dish cloth and walk out the door. Riddick put an ear to the door... just checking that everything was OK.

"Di!" a pleasant woman's voice called from a two-seater carriage. "My! You look lovely, dear. And, did you make another award winning pie? Mrs. Beasely will be most upset to get second again this year."

Dinalla's chuckled. "That's because baking should be done with love and not spite."

The women's raucous laughter trailed off as the carriage pulled away.

Puck moped about the room for a few minutes before finding his way to the pie whose sticky goodness still weeped from the edges of the golden crust. Riddick's boots approached as he stood behind the boy. Puck looked from Riddick to the pie with longing until Riddick picked up the pie to place it at the table.

Puck retrieved two clean forks from the drain basin and that's how they ate; sitting across the table from each other, forks breaking through the light crust to the richness inside. Riddick savored the first bite as flavors overwhelmed his taste buds. He took another bite and another. Nothing like that freeze-dried, reconstituted stuff he was used to. The taste was like ambrosia; the fruit was juicy and flavorful, the spices were light and only added to the flavor of the fruit. He ate nearly half the pie before he realized that Puck's half was not nearly as decimated. The boy held his belly as he set down the fork. Riddick nodded at the pie but Puck belched once and held up his hands in surrender.

"Better not let it go to waste," he rumbled.

Puck spent the rest of the evening moping and retired early to his bedroll. Riddick felt restless in the quiet cabin and slipped outside to get some air and let the boy sleep. Matthews' visit had made Riddick edgy. He walked a parameter to make himself feel better. He listened to the night sounds but wasn't able the make much out but small animal sounds. His senses had been developed in the wilds of cities not of forests. His instincts were rusty, and he mentally kicked himself for letting himself get too comfortable here. But it couldn't last... never did. It was foolish to think it would and Riddick was far from a fool.

Soon he would be off this rock, back on the run and everything would be back to normal... well, _his _kinda normal anyway.

Resigned, Riddick silently slipped back into the cabin and settled into a chair by the fire that gave off a low flickering light. The room was warm and Riddick's full belly lulled him into a trance like state. He starred into the fire for a few moments, marking the waves of flame and bursts of sparks as the sound of dry wood crackling was the only sound in the room.

_What? _

Riddick's eyes shot to the bedroll on the floor and listened carefully. The blankets didn't move, nor was there the even sound of sleep breathing. Riddick crossed the room in 2 steps and ripped back the cover. Carefully arranged blankets were formed in the loose shape of a small person.

Riddick's growl was low in his throat. He didn't need this. He knew where Puck had gone. He should just let Puck sneak off into the night, go to the dance and find his way safely home. He should...

But, in the next instant Riddick grabbed his goggles and shivs and was out the door.

Riddick was sure that Puck had slipped out while Riddick had been outside. It was stupid of him to relax so much. He would have known better had he been actively on the run.

Puck was fast and knew where he was going, but Riddick only had a vague sense of direction based on the glow on the horizon.

Riddick reached the edge of the festivities and kept himself to a dark corner on the perimeter of the dance area. From this vantage point, he could make out the entire scene with the clusters of people talking and laughing. A band on a stage to the far left end of the field played fast-paced music that couples danced in intricate patterns to, coming together, parting, and twirling.

It was fascinating to watch. Riddick caught sight of Dinalla among the couples dancing. She was currently partnered with an older man, rail thin with a little halo of white hair on his head. She was smiling and kicking up her heels with an abandon that the other women lacked. Her darker coloring, her exoticness, the richness of her gown and the ease with which she laughed set her apart from the other women who were paler and more sedate. One cluster of women Riddick could see kept their eyes on Dinalla and whispered amongst themselves. Riddick gritted his teeth.

The song ended and another started amid shouts of excitement. More couples poured into the dancing arena. Dinalla was caught up by another man, and the couples began a complicated reel made up of two rows of dancers that shifted, one to another in a dizzying mix of steps.

To his far right, Riddick caught sight of a tree swaying where the others had barely moved in the light breeze. Riddick's night-sensitive eyes registered a small form moving silently towards... the food tables. _Figures..._

He relaxed into his crouch just in time to see Dinalla shift partners again. The look on her face was one of shock, and he looked more closely at the young man with whom she was dancing. The man seemed to register the same surprised look. Just then the song ended, Dinalla's hand still in his as a slow song began. Riddick heard her panting and saw the glistening of sweat along her neck making its way between her breasts. Tendrils of hair had come undone and made her neck look even more graceful.

"Bradly..." she said the name breathlessly. "I had no idea you would be here." She seemed to look around for a way out but the slow dancing couples had cornered them up against the woods.

"Di...," he looked her up and down appreciatively. "You look well. I've never seen that dress before."

"My mother's," was her simple reply.

He caught her look and pulled her to him in a waltz-type hold as couples close to them started to look askance at the two unmoving figures. Dinalla stepped automatically into the man's arms and followed his lead, making small circles as they waltzed. Riddick found his hands on his shivs.

"How is your wife?" Dinalla asked with a false brightness. "She should be due any day now."

The man looked pained. "Di... You don't have to -"

Her step faltered. "No, no. Don't misunderstand. I meant what I said, Bradly. I want only happiness for you and Dorothy."

Bradly looked into her face and seemed to read something there. He sighed resignedly. "You are far too kind and forgiving, Di. I won't ever forget that."

Dinalla relaxed slightly in his arms, and they danced a few more steps before either spoke again.

"Dorothy is fine but having trouble with the pregnancy. She insisted I come to the dance even though Doc has her on bed rest."

Dinalla made a scoffing noise. "I'm sure you will have a healthy baby, and it's just a precaution. But, if you... either of you... need anything..."

The last chords of music died away, and their feet automatically came to a stop. The young man smiled and bowed over her hand.

"Thank you..." he said, and it carried with it an entire range of emotions.

Not long after Dinalla danced with the man, she said her good-byes to a few folks and distractedly turned down the road toward the cabin. Riddick could tell that she was lost in thought as she walked slowly in the moonlight. He shadowed her... just in case.

When she was more than halfway home, Dinalla stopped just beyond a bend in the road. She turned an ear toward her left and turned until her back was to Riddick.

"You might as well come out now," she said softly into the woods.

Riddick froze. _How did she know...?_

A shrubbery shook and Puck emerged from it, head down, dragging his feet. Rather than berate him, Dinalla held out her hand until he stepped closer, cradling his head into her body in a fierce hug.

"You, too," she said without moving.

Riddick let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding and uncrouched from his position to join them in the road. He felt exposed in the moonlit road, but there was no use pretending he hadn't heard her.

Dinalla grinned slyly. "I didn't realize I needed a guard."

Riddick grunted noncommittally. "Was following him," Riddick thrust his chin in Puck's direction.

Puck ducked his head but Dinalla just chuckled.

They began walking, moving as one down the road. A full moon was directly overhead and the crescent near 2 o'clock.

From the shadows, another pair of eyes watched the trio. A smile slide across her thin lips and her eyes glittered in the dark.


	10. The Bitter and the Sweet

Chapter 9

**Paradise: The Bitter and the Sweet**

_AN: I posted the first part of this earlier, but I made some edits. The rest is new! Pleasant reading!! As always, a huge thank you to Amita4ever for her patience in proofreading!  
_

Violet had snuck out of her house originally to keep her eye on Larsen Garrett and Samantha Perkins. She'd shimmied down the large tree outside her window like she used to when she was a little girl. Silently, she made her way to the edge of the clearing where she could hear the sounds of music and laughter and all she was missing. It raised her ire, being denied the pleasures of wearing her new dress and having all the young men asking her to dance. She was always the belle of the ball, and it was Dinalla's fault she wasn't this time.

From her tree-lined hiding spot, Violet, looking for Garrett, scanned the brightly dressed people. She found him only after she heard Samantha's piercing laughter through the crowd. And there he was... Larson Garrett with his sandy colored hair and honey brown eyes laughing along with Samantha like she had just told the greatest joke in the whole wide world. Violet's cold blue eyes glittered in hatred. But, poor Samantha was not the real target of Violet's hatred. In another moment, Violet found Dinalla dancing a reel, laughing away like nothing was wrong. A crescendo announced the end of the song, and Violet watched with wide eyes as Dinalla stood panting in front of Bradly, that witch's former love.

Dinalla and Bradly had both been young, barely in their teens, but everyone expected them to marry, settle down and have kids. It was Bradly's father who had finally put his foot down when Bradly announced their engagement. If the young man married the penniless Dinalla, Bradly's father's dry goods business would have surely closed. It was this and the threat of total disownership and disinheritance that made Bradly break off the engagement. For any girl, such a rejection was mortally embarrassing and might cause feuding among the families. For Dinalla, without family name nor dowry, it meant a lifetime of spinsterhood. Everyone shook their heads sadly at Dinalla's predicament and went back to business and in another year, Bradly had married Dorothy Valience. Her family was one of the wealthiest in the territory, and her father became half owner of the dry goods store.

Now, the shameless hussy had the gall to dance with Bradly in public... with people watching! The women in clusters almost collectively gasped, and Violet could imagine what they whispered about Dinalla. Whatever the established dames of the community said about Dinalla's shameless behavior, however, was nothing compared to the litany of curses that ran through Violet's mind.

When Dinalla hurriedly left the dance early, Violet thought it was the perfect time to confront the little witch. What she would say or do, she wasn't quite sure yet. She scrambled ahead through the brush around a bend in the road and away from dim lights of the dance. From behind a fallen log, Violet was at the perfect vantage point to see Dinalla coming down the road. Violet waited silently, barely breathing so when Dinalla was close enough to the hideout, Violet could unleash a long laundry list of grievences with that outsider.

But, Dinalla stopped suddenly and spoke into the night air. Violet held her breath in mid-stream as she watched Dinalla about 10 meters down the road.

"You can come out now," her voice lilted gently on the breeze.

Violet's heart thumped so loudly that she thought Dinalla would hear it, even with the wind coming from Dinalla's direction. _Caught!_ And there would be hell to pay if her father found out she had snuck out of her room. But, Violet had no reason to be afraid.

From further down the dirt track a bush shook, and the small form of the mute Puck emerged. Violet let out her breath slowly as she saw Dinalla indulgently smile down at him and ruffled his hair.

But, when Dinalla spoke again, and the man emerged from the other side of the lane, Violet's breath caught again in her throat.

_His eyes..._They glittered and reflected the moonlight. Even in the overly large shirt Violet could tell this man had muscles rippling underneath. His jaw was set straight and tight, and he was so tall Dinalla was dwarfed in his presence. He reminded her of a great beast, tightly controlled, body ready to spring on its prey. And, there was something about that image that made Violet's cold heart flutter and a warmth steal down to her belly. Even then, she silently ducked lower behind the log until she was laying with her cheek in the detritus, breaths shallow. She imagined that the man could see right through the log she was hiding behind ready to pounce on her and a delicious shiver went down her spine. Not that _that _wouldn't be a bad thing... if he were alone. This was a _man_... not one of those boys that Violet flirted and played the coquette with. He was all virile and masculine and oh-so yummy.

As Violet listened to the trio walking down the dirt track and away until she could no long hear their voices, she stayed totally still and thought about this new turn of events.

Dinalla had lied. She had lied to Violet about having someone with her. She had a new lover, and Violet's father would be furious to find that little tidbit of information out.

Violet's lips slid into a smile, and her eyes glittered as she formed a plan for revenge.

************************************************

By the time Dinalla, Puck and Riddick reached the small cottage, Puck could barely keep his eyes open. Dinalla ushered him to his bed roll where Puck gratefully covered himself up and instantly fell asleep. He didn't even stir as Dinalla simply slid off his shoes. Riddick stood by the door watching the homey scene impassively.

Despite the gentleness with which Dinalla treated Puck, he sensed the turbulent emotions rolling off of her. This man... _this Bradly person_... had caused her distress, and Riddick found he didn't like that at all. But, he stood by quietly while she fussed over the pie plate and washed up from the boys' snack.

"You should get to bed... early start in the morning," she said without looking up from her washing.

"You should too," he grumbled.

Dinalla sighed and leaned against the sink. "I know. I just -"

The sound of horse hooves pounding up the dirt road stopped her in mid-sentence. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at Riddick who immediately and silently stepped behind the bedroom door just in time for someone to pound on the door hard enough to shake the hinges.

"Mistress Dinalla! Bradly sent me to fetch you!" The man's voice was obviously strained.

Dinalla was in motion instantly and flung open the door. "What's wrong?"

"The baby... it's breached... Doc's passed out drunk from the dance... Bradly said something about a promise," the young man panted and spoke in short bursts.

Before Dinalla had finished listening to the man, she had gathered her large scuffed medical bag, muttering to herself, "Damn fool drunk! Never there when people need 'em..."

She stopped short of the door and turned to look at the sleeping Puck.

"He can fend fer hisself fer a bit, Mistress Dinalla. Now, please hurry!" the man said anxiously as he saw her watching Puck.

Dinalla's eyes shot to the crack in the door jam where the man at the front door could not see the bright, glittering eyes. Riddick caught her eyes for a second and nodded sharply once. He saw the tension ease from her shoulders a modicum before turning back to the stranger.

"You're right," she sighed and turned back to the door. "Take me to them and don't be gentle on my account."

The man and Dinalla disappeared through the door in the next instant, and, after only a moment, Riddick could hear the double-burdened horse take off at nearly a full gallop.

Riddick stood stock still until the sound of hooves died in the distance. When he did move, he found himself restless. Being left alone wasn't a problem. Heck, this was one the longest times Riddick had ever been in the company of people... if you didn't count the times in slam. But, they had a job to get done, and Riddick was eager to get off-planet and leave Puck and Di to their lives. Staying longer would only mess things up worse for them.

In his restlessness, Riddick stepped outside into the cool night air. He smelled the strong scent of wood smoke from the fire inside and subtler notes of loamy earth. He heard the babbling brook and the small sounds of night animals moving through the darkness. Riddick let himself relax and found it wasn't so hard to do. That was dangerous... getting too relaxed... getting comfortable, like this place could ever be his home. He didn't belong here; he didn't belong anywhere but on the move. He looked up into the vast dark sky and the smattering of bright stars. He felt the familiar tug from _out there_, a vague pull that told him he had been on this rock too long.

_Soon_... as soon as Dinalla got back. Now that she was gone, he was even more eager to be off, to see this Oldtimer and find a way off this planet and away from this town with its double-faced and gullible mentality. And, if he couldn't, what then? With time honored practice, he pushed thoughts of a future to the back of his mind. The most immediate need was to get the wagon rolling.

Riddick's restlessness nagged at him. He found himself inside, flipping curiously through the small collection of books before finding one bound in old leather with gold-leaf script across the spine. He sat beside the low fire, the book feeling warm and smooth in his hands. Riddick flipped randomly to a page and saw it was a book of old Earth poetry and guessed it was probably worth a lot of credits on the open market. He scanned through several poems recognizing a few authors' names that orphanage teachers had tried drilling into his head. Then one poem caught his attention.

_"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.  
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,  
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves..."* _

He shut the book quickly. Was it a premonition of his death? But no one would mourn him. And sure, the police would throw a parade rather than a procession. Heck, death would bring an end to the running. _No rest until yer dead..._

It was to these cheery thoughts that Riddick must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew the sound of wagon wheels coming to stop right outside the door brought him to full attention. The weak light of dawn bathed the room in a grayish glow, and he cursed himself for falling asleep. Impossibly silent on the weathered wooden floor, he dashed behind the front door as he heard murmured good-byes. He wouldn't make it to the bedroom without being seen before the door was opened. He heard what he now recognized as Dinalla's footfalls on the steps and then the door opened and he froze in place.

Riddick heard Dinalla sigh wearily as she closed the door, but his presence behind the door startled her. Faster than any man had a right to be, he grabbed her by the waist and pinned her body to his, placing a hand over her mouth to cut off her involuntary scream. His metallic gray eyes bored into her wide ones. In the next instant, he saw recognition in her dark eyes, but it was too late.

"Mistress Dinalla? You okay?" a woman's voice sounded from outside.

Riddick felt Di's heart racing against his chest and the fast rise and fall of her breathing. Then he ever so slowly released her. She stepped back once still staring wide but no longer frightened of him, stood stock still, gazed locked.

Dinalla felt her heart racing as it switched from frightened to mesmerized. It was like looking into twin pools of quicksilver that pulled her into those depths. And, would it be such a bad thing if she let herself swim in the for awhile? Riddick smirked as if he was thinking somewhere along the same lines. Di blushed with embarrassment and confusion. Finally, she shook her head to clear it breaking the contact.

"Mistress Dinalla?" Mrs Bartlett repeated, and they both jumped as the wagon rattled with the sound of a person getting down.

Di smoothed her skirt and quickly opened the door, reassuring smile plastered to her face in. "I'm fine, Mrs. Bartlett. I'm just tired... so I tripped and caught myself."

"Then get some rest. You did a good thing tonight." Mrs. Bartlet seemed reassured by Dinalla's explanation.

A few moments later, the wagon moving off was the only sound. Di watched it roll away and back towards town before closing the door and leaning against it, closing her eyes.

Riddick looked Dinalla up and down. Her beautiful dress was a mess. Something spotted and splotched the front in places making it looker darker in some spots than others. There was some evidence that she had tried to use an apron but to no avail. Several tendrils of hair had escaped the original top knot and even now she absent-mindedly pushed a strand back into the mass of hair. She looked pale and tired even to Riddick's shined eyes. And, the smell coming from her... under the thin veneer of feminine sweat was the tang of blood and another smell that Riddick usually associated with deep belly wounds.

The mask that was usually Riddick's face must have fallen because she smiled weakly at him, "I know... the smell. They forget to tell you about the smell when birthing babies. But, after a hard labor, we finally got him free. Mother and son will be fine. I'll wash up and we'll be on our way."

"You haven't slept." It was a statement, not a question.

A tired, dry sounding chuckle came from her. "We'll have to put that wagon driving of yours to work, maybe. Give me a chance to sleep."

She opened the door and started down the stairs towards the water pump. Before she made it to the pump, though, Riddick caught her wrist, and she tried to pull back before looking up at him as if she thought he would eat her alive.

Riddick smiled slyly letting her think what she would for a moment. Then he said, "I got it. Go," and he shoved her gently back towards the house.

Dinalla stepped back and smiled up at him gratefully. They didn't bother to heat the water; there was no time if they hoped to make it to the mountain before nightfall. Instead, Dinalla took a sponge bath in her room.

Riddick loaded some provisions in a sack - leftover coldcuts, cheese, some fruit that looked like an apple, biscuits and jugs of water, while he waited. When Puck woke up, he pitched in after checking the sounds coming from Dinalla's room and being satisfied that she was home and safe. By the time she emerged on the top step in a dark rough cut skirt, blouse and vest, she looked like she had more color to her cheeks. No doubt the spring chilled water woke her up better than any coffee could. Puck threw himself in her arms, and she laughed in the morning air. With her arm around Puck's shoulder, she walked down steps to stand in front of Riddick, still smiling and handed him a well-worn, floppy hat.

"Expect me to wear that?" Riddick grumbled.

Di smiled indulgently as if he were her patient back in bed. "You will if you want to avoid a nasty painful burn on your head."

Riddick reached up smoothing his hand over his dome. Di had shaved his face when he couldn't and his hair had gown. But, since he had recovered enough to take over, he had resumed shaving his learning how to plow and plant, he had gotten a sunburn that left his scalp raw and tender. No need to go through it again.

Riddick snatched the hat from Di's hand and dropped it on his head. Di and Puck both raised their hands to their mouths to hide their laughter, but he heard snickers all the same. Grumbling, he climbed into the driver's seat.

Lastly, Dinalla grabbed up a duffel bag and then the shotgun leaning against the cabin and handed it up to Riddick. He hesitated a fraction of a second, but the look on her face was open and trusting. _If only she knew..._ He laid the shotgun near his feet.

"It should take 2-3 days round-trip," she said. "Puck, up front with Mr. Rick."

Puck hopped up into onto the bench seat, gave Riddick his toothy grin and plopped a wide brimmed hat on his head similar to Riddick's. Riddick rolled his eyes but grinned despite himself.

"Follow the road away from town. You can't go wrong. I'll be ready to drive once we hit the foothills. Then it's treacherous going." Di hopped in the back, pushing items under the tarp around to make a nest of sorts.

They were soon on their way, the sun now fully exposed over the hills and casting a warm glow over everything. The clatter and rocking of the wagon was constant and soon Di was fast asleep in the back and Puck munched a hardened biscuit next to Riddick.

Riddick took his time to survey the area as he drove. Dinalla's place seemed to be the last domicile for a ways along the road. Soon the road truly became a dirt track - rutted from water run-off and uneven so that at times, Riddick was afraid he might overturn the wagon, but the borrowed mules were well-trained and seemed to choose the best route along the path. Trees grew thickly next to the road, and the brush and brambles made a nearly impenetrable barrier along it. The dappled sunlight was dim enough that Riddick removed his goggles for better vision, but he ended up squinting a good deal and willed back the tendrils of a headache as the afternoon wore on.

_A good place to be ambushed_, Riddick mused and kept his body relaxed while his mind was intently focused on any sudden sound or movement. Riddick had no need to worry, though. The most he saw was a quick flash of bushy tail or the flutter of birds hopping among the branches. The forest was not as quiet as he would have thought. It had its own sounds, its own rhythm that was entirely different than what he was used to.

Near mid-day when the sun was high in the sky, they stopped under a great arching tree that looked entirely alien in the otherwise unassuming forest. It's trunk was twisted, the roots bent up through the ground, and the great mass of leaf-bound branches shaped into a hammer-head while the muted light reflected on the pointed leaves like glimmering, gnashing teeth. To Riddick, it looked like a monster with arms splayed out for a grab, legs bent and ready to pounce. _Here there be monsters... _And his brain flashed to another time, another planet he'd been shipwrecked on. He shook the memories off while Di split up some of the food from the rucksack.

"Haven't seen anyone out this way," Riddick said while he wiped crumbs from his lips.

"Nor will you. This road leads to the mountain, and no one goes there." Juice from an apple-like fruit dripped down her chin, and she wiped it away with her sleeve. "People say the mountain is haunted, that the Oldtimer is in league with demons who reside there." She shrugged. "More superstitions."

They fell quiet for a bit, only the sounds of mastication breaking the silence.

"How do you know him?" Riddick tried to sound nonchalant, but he needed to know how much to trust this man Dinalla put so much faith in.

The look on Dinalla's face told him he had struck a nerve.

"It took my mother five years of planning to get us out." Her voice was low as she spoke. "She plotted and planned, made connections, paid the right people. Somehow, she was contacted by the Oldtimer... He'd heard of her dilemma and offered to help."

Riddick couldn't help himself. "What did he get out of it?"

Di looked startled by the question, and Riddick knew he probably shouldn't have asked. Where he came from, no one did something for nothing. But, Di looked away the next moment, and he had to wonder if this rock was so different.

"I... dunno," she looked far in the distance for a moment. "All I know is he set us up with land. It already had a simple cabin on it, so he let us make improvements on it and now it's ours." She looked at Puck who returned her smile.

Riddick chewed and swallowed while thinking that over. In the slam, people traded everything from a few menthols to carnal pleasures for what they wanted. It was all a matter of implied value since credits weren't very useful in prison. No one helped somebody for nothing. But on this planet, the give and take was... different. It was based on building community, not on forging alliances to gain an advantage on an enemy or protecting oneself from said enemy. The concept was foreign and he gave up trying to wrap his head around it.

After everyone had a chance to relieve themselves, they were ready to get on the move, this time with Dinalla at the reins and Riddick curled in back. He was used to falling asleep anywhere; in the slam or on the run, it was a survival skill. But, the road worsened and started to slop upward, and he could only catch a minutes of sleep, or what passed for sleep for him.

Riddick looked up through the canopy and watched the light fade from the sky. Because of the dense thicket of trees on the foothills, darkness came quickly, well before true sunset, Dinalla stopped in a clearing off the road and informed them they would put down there for the night.

"It's too treacherous in these woods at night," she said, hopping down from the cab. "Puck, gather some tinder and wood, please, dear. Mr. Rick, are you good at starting a fire?" she asked and picked up the shot gun.

"Should be." He picked up the firebox and checked inside for everything he would need. Then he eyed the gun propped on her shoulder. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

She smiled confidently and tucked the handle of the gun in the crook of her arm. "To bring back some dinner."

Riddick snorted as she headed off perpendicular to the camp and disappeared into the foliage. He was surprised that in another second or so, he couldn't even hear her footfalls. While he was working with the tinder Puck brought him, he heard two shots, muffled but not too far away. Riddick froze, all his senses trained on the area where the shots had come from. Puck eyed him curiously before taking over the task of feeding kindling to the small, smoky fire.

By the time the fire was roaring and Riddick had lost his tense look, Dinalla traipsed back into the clearing with two birds looped over her shoulder. She looked quite pleased with herself and, Riddick had to admit, he was impressed she had bagged two birds in such a short period of time.

"See... dinner." She grinned proudly.

It wasn't long either before Puck had them plucked and gutted. Dinalla stuffed them with wild herbs she had also found so that by the time the spitted birds were crisp and crackling, the smell was ambrosia to all three. Riddick consumed one bird by himself while Di and Puck shared the other. To round out the meal, there were more hard biscuits and some cheese. They all cleaned the bones spotless and tossed the leftovers into the fire to listen to them sputter and spit.

Bellies full and fire crackling, Dinalla and Riddick spread out the bedrolls tucked in the wagon, and Puck flopped unceremoniously on his. The evening was still chilly, but the fire kept most of it away as they all bedded down. Riddick laid out, arms crossed under his head and watched the stars through the tree tops. Soon enough, Puck fell into a deep, sound sleep, his breathing long and heavy.

"I'm sure you are eager to get home. We should be at the Oldtimer's tomorrow," Di whispered.

Riddick grunted. _Home _was an unfamiliar concept for him, but let her think that was his motive. Better that than her knowing that his very presence on this planet could rain down a posse of mercs that would chew up and spit out the people in that dust bucket of a town she called Paradise.

************************************************

_*Funeral Blues _by WH Auden


	11. Tempus Fugit

**Chapter 10 **

Paradise: _Tempus Fugit_

The morning broke crisp and cold. Dinalla, Riddick and Puck quickly ate some bread and cold cuts before totally extinguishing the fire and loading up. This time, Puck perched in back while Dinalla held the reins and Riddick held the shotgun lightly. She could see him scanning the woods, taking in each movement and sound with an intensity she figured was part of him being in new territory. She had no idea that what she mistook for nervousness was really alertness. Being alert is what had kept him alive and out of merc hands for this long.

The wagon followed the foothills higher and higher until the road grew narrower and narrower, hemmed in by rising ridges of rock. The forest appeared to peel back as the mountain truly took over until there were only scrub brush and stunted trees clinging to any crevices they could find.

"We have to walk the rest of the way," Dinalla said and squinted through a part in the rock. "Shouldn't be far if I remember right."

Riddick hopped out of the wagon and looked at the bed full of the materials from his craft. Despite his goggles being back in place, Dinalla seemed to read him easily and chuckled.

"Leave it for now. Let's see if he's home first."

Di hefted the duffel over her shoulder and picked up her skirts to lead the way over some boulders. After trekking for only 10 minutes or so, the rugged terrain smoothed out into a shelf that wrapped around the mountain side. Piles of rock debris marked where rock slides had occurred. The trees grew a bit taller here and the undergrowth had more purchase. The trio trudged along for nearly a half hour until Di started looking carefully up the mountain side looking for landmarks. Despite the aging of the rock, she recognized a dome shaped protuberance and got excited - they were almost there.

As they rounded an jagged curtain of rock, Riddick was surprised to see a long narrow opening in the mountainside. It would have been completely hidden if Di hadn't turned towards it like she knew were she was going. But the narrow gap was only the "hallway" entrance because they stopped at a crude metal door with brackets pounded into the stone. The door looked like it would stand up to a nuclear holocaust, and Riddick paused to think why this old man would need to protect himself so badly. The grip tightened on the shotgun still in his hand.

Without ceremony, Dinalla raised her fist to strike at the door. But, before she could even make contact, the door opened wide and a grizzled old man with long braided yellowish-white hair stood smiling at her making the short, white whiskers of his face shoot off in different directions.

"Dinalla! Puck! How good it is to see you. It's been so long!" His voice sounded somewhere between a chain smoker and sandpaper.

Dinalla fell into his open arms and squeezed until the old man protested. "My ribs, girl!" Then it was Puck's turn to hug to man, but he was much more gentle.

"Sorry," she said with no apology in her voice and smile bigger than ever. "It has been a long time. I'm sorry about that. And I hate to come when..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes flickered to Riddick.

The man seemed to see Riddick for the first time. His eyes scrunched up as he appraised the man in goggles and a shirt that look like it was meant for someone else. Riddick stood in a seemingly relaxed stance, half-smirk on his face under the old man's appraisal. Neither spoke and Dinalla fidgeted until she couldn't take it.

"This is Mr. Rick, Oldtimer. He crashed here over 2 months ago -" Riddick was a little startled to hear the amount of time since one day had run into another" - and he was, well, actually, _we _were hoping that you could help him find a way to get him home." Her words ran together as if she was in a hurry to get everything out before appraisal turned to animosity.

Both men, now looking each other in the face, didn't move while Di spoke. The Oldtimer broke the stand off first, muttering a "Huh" and turning back to Di.

"I don't know, I don't know..." His eyes flickered to Riddick again. "Well, come in. Don't hover in the door like a bunch of vagabonds." He shuffled everyone inside before shutting the door.

The narrow path through the rock opened wider and wider until at last it opened into a gigantic domed cave that was packed full of so many machines and gadgets that it looked like someone had built a mammoth-sized erector set in the middle of the room. There appeared to be some kind of living room area - scattered armchairs, side tables, and a fireplace with a large metal pot steaming over it - to the left, and on the right looked like a series of workstations with various electric components spewing wires on the tables. Most surprising of all, flat-screen and holo-monitors flashed with streams of data that Riddick didn't understand. One set of monitors cycled through images that Riddick recognized as the outside perimeter of the cave - a surveillance system. Riddick whistled in amazement. It seemed like this planet, that lacked any modern technology, had stored whatever scraps they had in this cavern.

Dinalla smiled at Riddick's surprise and whispered, "I told you he would be the one to help you."

The smile didn't last long.

"What mess have you gotten yourself into now, Dinalla?" The Oldtimer scowled in her direction from a stool beside a workstation.

She faltered for a moment. "Old man," she started, but it wasn't a derogatory moniker; her tone held too much reverence for that. "We came to you for help. We brought you what was left of his ship," Dinalla said to the Oldtimer. "Different technology than anything you have here." She swept her hand around the room.

The old man's look of intrigue interrupted his scowl for a moment. Then he snorted and said, "There isn't much in this universe I haven't seen."

"You haven't seen this," Riddick said grimly.

Bushy white eyebrows scrunched up as the man squinted into Riddick's goggles. "And, what makes you say that?"

Riddick arms crossed over his chest. "Cuz you're alive and here." He stood by the fireplace and now leaned casually against it. "And, if you'd met the Necromongers, you wouldn't be. They force people to convert or die."

Puck kept his rapt attention on Riddick while Di looked sharply at him when he spoke those last words and shuddered in distaste. The old man's fingers massaged his jaw at those words, making an audible scratchy sound from the stubble.

"Except you." A statement.

"Except me," Riddick confirmed.

The starring contest resumed once again. Finally, Riddick broke off and turned to look at Puck who was as bewildered as Dinalla was.

"Puck..." Riddick said in the tension of silence. "Why don't scout a faster route to the wagon for us?"

Di truly looked confused and a bit hurt. Puck glanced at Dinalla, but she had deep furrow between her sleek dark eyebrows as she looked for clues in the Oldtimer's face. He looked back at Riddick whose expression was as blank as stone. Reluctantly, Puck turned and trudged back out the opening.

"She doesn't know," the old man's statement was barely above a whisper, but it filled the room anyway.

Riddick should have known that with all this equipment, he wouldn't be able to hide his identity for long. The old man probably thought he had died in the crash until now.

"What don't I know?" Dinalla looked up from her reverie and scanned back and forth between the Oldtimer and Riddick.

Riddick was the first to move; his lips slid into a smirk and he set down the shotgun next to a pile of rubber tubing. No sense in scaring her now.

"No... Less she knew, the better." His voice sounded more confident than he felt. There was a part of him that regretted having to do this, but he shoved into the corner of his mind. He needed to get this over with.

"Humph," the man responded. "Well, she will need more than your protection if you don't get off this rock and soon. I've already been tracking another ship circling, kinda like they are waiting for something."

The short squat form shambled over to a holo-vid, punching at something until a diagram of the space around the planet showed the unmistakable form of a ship in orbit.

"What is going on?!" Dinalla's shock had worn off and the impatience marred her face in anger, the first real sign of anger since Riddick had crash landed into her lap.

"Your friend here," the Oldtimer pointed a knobby finger toward Riddick. "I don't know what he told you, but that ship -" he punched his finger at the screen "- is here for him -" another finger jab "- and, if they decide to land, we might all be in for a heap a trouble."

Dinalla looked from the screen to Riddick and then shook her head. "I don't understand... Then we can contact them to pick him up, and you can get back to -"

Riddick shook his head uneasily while interrupting her. "Not unless I plan to go back to the slam... which I don't."

Everything was silent while Dinalla processed that information. She started to tremble. "Slam? Like prison?"

Riddick couldn't help himself. "Prison is for the minor leagues."

The Oldtimer punched something else and the screen shifted to Riddick's face, and he sighed. The pictures were side by side: one of him in the corridor outside pitted against his official mugshot. A stream of words flew across the right side of his image. His criminal record. He thought it looked a bit longer than it should be. Ah, well...

"Richard B. Riddick," she read and kept reading, her eyes growing wider. "You... are a criminal? A murderer?" Her voice shook slightly as she caught some of the phrases rolling past. Then her eyes took on a look of fear as she glanced to the hallway that Puck had walked down moments before.

"I would never hurt _a child_," Riddick said through clenched teeth. He was surprised at how angry that made him that she would think that. "I would never jeopardize either of you."

"But you have," the old man's gravely voice accused. "Just being here, just breathing, you have put Di and Puck in danger. I swore on her mother's deathbed that I would protect them, and you just made my promise nearly impossible to keep, mister."

"Gramps, I do what I do to survive. I don't suppose that makes sense when you hide yourself on a dustball, back-water planet like this." His words and the vehemence behind them made Dinalla flinch. "But out there, you have to scratch and fight and sometimes kill or be killed."

The Oldtimer humphed again and hopped from the stool to stand in front of Riddick, looking defiantly into his face. "Those are mercs out there. They are hunting you and, on this dustball, back-water planet as you called it, who's to say they won't level it to find you, huh?"

Riddick's fists opened and closed, jaw set tight until he made sure he would not choke the life from this little man.

"Give them what they came for." His voice was low, and the smirk shifted to a grin as the white-haired man squinted at the words.

"You have a plan." A statement, not a question. His eyes were locked on Riddick's face.

Riddick nodded anyway, jaw clenching.

Di's voice interrupted them. "But... You said you wouldn't go back to prison." Her voice at turned from the hurt anger to concern that he was throwing himself to the wolves.

Finally, the Oldtimer humphed and stepped away. "He isn't going back to prison. He is gonna steal their ship."

Dinalla swung her head to look at Riddick.

"Done it before," Riddick muttered still watching the crazy old man. "Sooner I get away from you and Puck, the safer you'll be." When he was finished stating the obvious, he turned back to Di.

When Riddick looked back at Dinalla's face, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He had expected Dinalla to scream at him, point a finger like the old man had. But this was much much worse. Her face was a mask of betrayal, the eyes glassy and brimming with wetness, her lips trembling as if she would speak in such a speechless moment. Riddick blinked hard because he thought he saw another's face for a moment, a double-image of Di's hurt face and one much younger when he had announced he was leaving. The reasons for the hurt were different but no less palpable right now to Riddick. Dinalla had been nothing but open and honest, not asking questions, not poking at things she didn't want to know. But, she had not done it out of ignorance; she had done it out of respect and a sense of privacy. Now her ignorance could very well get her and Puck killed. The other one's reasons had been... His lips pressed in a hard line as he rearranged the wall of memory to forget _her _once again.

Dinalla's face slowly shifted almost like a cloud crossed the sun and cast a shadow on her face. The betrayed, hurt look was replaced by a fury that burned deep in her eyes. It made her look kind of alluring with her eyes blazing like that.

But, then she turned and snatched the shotgun from where it lay.

"Need to go find Puck," she murmured, the pain obvious in her voice. Before she could make it all the way out of the cave without anyone seeing, Riddick caught the glimmer of tears on her cheek and the shaky hand that pushed them angrily away as she left.

"Let her go," the old man said when Riddick made a step to follow. "She'll be fine. Her heart is too big to be mad for long," he said quietly. Then his voice turned sharp again. "Now let's get you off this rock for good."

With a bit of scouting, Puck had found a faster way back to the wagon. It was a bit steeper than the original path, but the time saved made the difference. Over the next several hours, Puck, Di and Riddick unloaded the wagon wordlessly. It was almost like when they had loaded the cart, trudging a path through the brush back and forth, minus the amiable humor from before. Meanwhile, the Oldtimer carefully assessed and sorted the pieces among the existing piles, muttering to himself the entire time. By the time the light was fading from the sky and making it too treacherous to continue, they were finished. The simple drudgery of lugging the scrap seemed to help Di remain composed although Puck picked up on some of the obvious tension, for he refused to leave her side during the day.

Finally, when the work was done, the Oldtimer ambled over to what looked like the living area with its mismatched armchairs and carton-and-slat table to clear space for them to eat. He began picking up endless bits of cords, wires, tubing and whatnot stacking or throwing them into various piles. In fact, it looked like the mechanical paraphernalia was protruding from nearly every available surface in the room. Once space had been cleared from the minimal area needed for seating his guests, he indicated they should sit while he made himself busy at the fireplace. Something that smelled like a rich stew was bubbling in a cauldron over the fire and Puck licked his lips in anticipation. The old man served up the soup to the hungry group. He gave himself and Di the only warped metal bowls he had, and Puck and Riddick got dinged up mugs. "Don't entertain much," he grumbled as way of an apology.

Riddick mumbled a thanks and set into the stew with relish. It was made up of greasy shreds of some kind of animal meat and a starchy root vegetable. While he ate, Dinalla and the old man kept up an amiable conversation like two old friends catching up on news. But, Riddick noticed, Di kept certain details from him like the encounter with Matthews.

Finally, after Puck had had two and Riddick had had three helpings of the thick meaty stew, Puck was almost falling asleep in his cup. Riddick picked him up and followed the old man to the back of the cave which twisted again into a corridor that was shorter than the entrance. This one opened into a smaller cavern that was obviously a bedroom of sorts. An assortment of mattresses lined one wall. Some were leaned up against it more like couches than beds. There were clothes strewn about, and it seemed that some of the piles of electronics had found there way into this room, although not as bad as the first cave.

Dinalla and the old man shifted things about, throwing clothes in piles and pulling the couch-like mattress out into full beds, until there was enough space for Puck to lay out comfortably. The boy was asleep before his head hit the pillow. The adults returned to the main room to make plans.

The Oldtimer dropped into a chair with a humph. "If their course holds steady, the merc ship should be here in about 18 hours," the old man grumbled as he stoked the fire. It didn't really need it. The thick rock of the cave kept the temperature even throughout the year.

"Plenty of time," said Riddick and sat across from him.

Only Dinalla did not take a seat. She stood, hands clasped in front of her, between the two men. "I'm not helping." There was an edge to Dinalla's voice as she looked from the old man to Riddick. "I won't involve Puck in anything illegal. We're leaving in the morning." Riddick could tell she was still angry although her voice was calm.

Riddick nodded but didn't bother to tell her that it might be too late already. No reason to make her more skittish that necessary.

The Oldtimer gripped one of her hands gently in his papery, smooth ones. "Don't worry about a thing, dear. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Di nodded reluctantly and turned toward the bedroom without a glance at Riddick.

The Oldtimer sighed heavily when she left. "That poor girl has the biggest heart of anyone I know. It causes her more grief." He shook his head sadly.

Riddick didn't speak for several minutes. Both men just watched the flames dance.

"I don't know how much Dinalla told you... about her past." The old man spoke quietly without looking away from the fire. "Her father," he twisted the word like a curse, "is a very powerful man. Influential and without remorse."

He stopped speaking and Riddick just waited.

"If those mercs get close... even after all these years..." The Oldtimer's voice drifted off but Riddick picked up the meaning.

"Her father may be still trying to get her back?"

The grizzled chin nodded up and down slowly. "I wouldn't put it past him."

The crackling fire filled in the silence for a bit. Riddick's brain turned over the new information. He had only thought of Dinalla getting tagged for giving him shelter.

"Come on." The old man shambled over to the work area and dug through a cabinet finding a rucksack and shoving somethings inside. Lastly, he pulled out an old map and unfolded it, Riddick could see it was a map of the area and complete with topography probably printed from one of his machines.

"We are here," the Oldtimer pointed to the southern side of the mountain. "The ship should land here if they hold course." He pointed to a large open space well beyond the structures of the town.

Riddick glanced at the screen that still should the slow progress of the ship. "Moderate sized ship. Probably a crew of 10 or so..." Riddick calculated the best way to dispose of them, in ones or groups of twos and threes. He could pilot a ship even that size by himself as long as he didn't need to fight and fly.

"Follow this river." A squiggly line bypassed the mountain and curved around to the northern edge of town. It was probably a stream off of this river that fed the one by Dinalla's house. "Use'ta have a small boat here, but it's been years. It might not be in the same place if it's there at all, but it would make the trip a lot faster."

Riddick nodded in understanding. Paddle down river, hop off just before the town and be ready to meet up with the mercs as they landed. Surprise would be a great advantage.

Finally, Riddick's curiosity burned. "Gramps... Why are you helping me? What is it to you?"

"I made a promise," he replied simply.

Too simple for Riddick's comfort. "What was her mother to you, old man?"

The Oldtimer considered the question for a time before answering. "It's a long story, as long as this planet has been inhabited." He climbed onto a stool again and his eyes got a far away look of one remembering things long passed.

"When we established this colony, we wanted it to be the great democratic experiment. We hand picked people who were skillful but might have lacked money or means. The disenfranchised of the techno-corrupt worlds where money and power crush humanity. A closed but growing system, one protected from outside influences." As he spoke, his voice grew more vehement. Then he sighed and shook his head sadly. Now his voice took on a neutral, scientific quality. "I am the last one left, the final observer. When Di's mother made a plea for help, I thought... What if we introduced a new element? After three generations, how would the planet's inhabitants respond to being introduced to an unknown variable?" He humphed again, voice choked with anger and frustration. "We had underestimated that isolation from the greater universe would contribute to xenophobia. So, when I realized what was happening to Di and her mother, it was too late. She was already sick and dying. She made me promise not to send Di away," he said sadly, "to watch over her and keep her from harm, from her father... And, then _you _showed up." He humphed again.

Riddick had listened to the old man without comment, leaning against the table behind him, arms over his chest. He was certain of several things during the course of his speech. For one, the old man and his group of buddies had planted people here in some warped experiment. For another thing, the Oldtimer had lived for three generations which made him at least 150 years old. And, lastly, the old man was a arrogant prick.

"You and your friends," Riddick's voice grumbled, "played God with these people's lives... with Di and her mom and Puck." Riddick growled now. "You are no better than a little boy with an ant farm shaking it up just to see what happens."

"No one was forced, everyone knew the conditions of this planet," the old man replied angrily. "They wanted to be free from techno-tyrany-"

Riddick pushed himself from the table, face inches from the old man's. "Doesn't excuse what Di has gone through. _She _didn't make the choice to become an outcast, to help people while they spit behind her back."

The Oldtimer starred, not replying, lips pressed together in a hard thin line. Then he spoke, biting out the words. "I can't change the past, but I can keep my promise." He relaxed and pulled away from Riddick's silver glare. "Like you said, faster I get you outta here, the safer they will be."

Riddick nodded once, folded the map and shoved it into the pack before slinging it across his back. "Messing with people's live like that," he said, shaking his head. He paused, not quite sure why he hesitated. "What... will you tell them?" he spoke quietly.

The old man shrugged and glanced toward the bedroom. "The truth. You had a date with mercs."

Riddick couldn't say anything against that. Even though he might hide it at his convenience, he wouldn't deny the truth.

"If it weren't for Puck and Di, I might just shake things up," he said instead, voice a low rumble and full of animosity. "Ever _observed_ a bunch of pissed off ants?"

The two men glared silently at each other before Riddick turned and strode down the long entryway and out into the fragile darkness of the forest. Not needing his goggles, he set off at a run, long lopping strides that covered ground and conserved energy.

Like the old man had said... he had a date with mercs.


	12. The Past Comes Acalling

**Chapter 11**

The Past Comes A-Calling

_AN: Here is a holiday give from me to you, the reader. Have wonderful and safe holiday and remember to count your blessings!_ _BB, Star_

"He left? Just like that?" Dinalla's voice sounded wounded, but the look on Puck's face was one of utter shock and, worst of all, hurt.

The Oldtimer humphed and shrugged. "It's better this way. He is out of your hair and keeping the mercs off your back."

Dinalla knew that Riddick would leave one day, but... without saying good-bye at least? She felt horrible for how she had behaved yesterday. She knew that he was right; he had never threatened her or Puck. But, it only made it harder to believe him a cold-blooded killer.

After a quick breakfast, Puck and Dinalla loaded themselves into the now empty wagon explaining to the Oldtimer that she couldn't leave the newly planted fields alone for long. Dawn broke pink and gold over the mountain, and the air was chilly from the higher altitude. They said their good-byes to the old man and maneuvered the wagon back down the hillside.

Puck sat quietly next to Dinalla on the ride back. She would turn occasionally to smile reassuringly at Puck, who gripped her hand lightly and squeezed from time to time, giving what reassurance he could back. Di sighed and resigned herself to the trek home wishing Riddick luck silently to herself.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and quick. Without the burden of the laden wagon, the mules moved quickly, nickering in the excitement to be getting home. They stopped for a quick lunch in the shade of a tree, but didn't linger long. The longing for home drove them the last few hours towards their destination. By the time the first hint of sunset started to color the sky, Puck and Di were in familiar territory and their own excitement grew. It wouldn't be long now.

******************

When the medium-sized ship called the _Icarus _descended outside the small town of Paradise, the populace responded with awe, curiosity, but mostly fear of strangers coming to uproot their lives. Eventually the awe and curiosity won out for most and clusters of townsfolk migrated towards the landing site, among them was Violet and her girlfriends who whispered and speculated among themselves about the visitors. The group of nearly one hundred people spread out on either side of the town sheriff, a man in his fifties with a crown of white hair and bean-pole thin.

The motley group of seven men and one woman that stepped out of the ship were heavily armed. The crowd shifted and murmured uncomfortably, but the sheriff waved a hand for people to settle down as he stepped forward to talk to the newcomers. As he did, he held his rifle in the crook of his arm. There was a false sense of relaxation in his stance. Anyone who knew him knew he was one of the fastest shots in the territory.

"Welcome to Paradise," he said and ignored the snorts and chuckles from the merc group. "I'm Sheriff Lane, Tom Lane. What business do you have among us?" The question, although direct, was polite enough.

The largest, burliest man in the group stepped forward, his long dark brown duster parting as he walked to reveal an assortment of weapons, but his hands remained carefully down by his sides. His face was half hidden by a beard that looked like it was staging a coup, but his most startling features were the crystal blue eyes just a shade darker than glacial ice.

"Greetings, Sheriff. My name is Kent Grayson," he said with a gravelly voice. He extended his right hand and waited patiently while the sheriff shifted his weapon to grip it in a hand shake. "Sorry to drop down on you like this, but we are in need of some supplies,"

The sheriff dropped the man's paw-sized hand and took in the group standing behind Grayson. "You're mercs?" he asked and continued when Grayson nodded. "I don't think we have anything you want here." The double-meaning was clear. "No fuel. Not much food. We're a subsistence planet mostly."

Violet and two her friends, Margot and Charlotte, stood in front and to the left of the sheriff. Margot and Charlotte discussed which of the motley men was the most attractive or the most dangerous looking. But, Violet ignored the whispered conversation, catching instead the words being exchanged. She heard the word 'mercs' and pricked up her ears. What did it mean? Who were they? They looked rough, violent, dangerous. Something about them reminded her of the man with the silver eyes.

"Actually, all we need is some food. We can pay," Grayson responded, trying to grin, but the beard seemed win out. "My men are ready to kill each other for something besides protein waffles." He turned and waved one of the other mercs to him. The youngish slight man came forward with a role of paper money.

The sheriff eyed the wad uneasily but nodded. "That should be enough to buy out just about everything we got."

Grayson smiled and tucked the role in his jacket pocket. "Perfect, then. Perhaps you could show us the way?"

Sheriff Lane still looked uneasy. But, they had money and a lot of it. It would be good for the town to do a little business with these folk. "Sure, just remember that we don't want no trouble-" he said, voice carrying to the crowd "- and try to get what you need by sundown. Agreed?"

Grayson shook the slender man's hand again and smiled enough to flash white but crooked teeth. "No problem. We aren't looking for trouble."

Lane nodded confidently and turned back to the murmuring townsfolk and all the voices stopped at once. Slowly, the people parted like a sea and let the sheriff and four mercs pass by them. The remaining mercs stayed close to the ship making preparations for on-loading their cargo.

Once the sheriff turned his back on the men to lead them back into town, the crowd fell in behind them. People were still talking to each other in small clusters and Violet caught snatches of conversation.

"-must be a long way out-"

"Who would they be looking for on this dustball?"

"-mercs are barely better than the criminals they hunt-"

Violet's steps slowed until she stopped while the rest of the crowd surged back to town. Her delicate brows knitted together.

_Mercs? Like bounty hunters? Who would they be looking for...? _She didn't even finish the thought before the vision of a man with quicksilver eyes flashed before her. No wonder they reminded her of him. She remembered how Dinalla had lied about keeping him at her house. She remembered the tightly bound muscles and shivered just like she had that night. A delicious warmth crept up her body.

"Violet?" Charlotte had finally realized Violet wasn't keeping up anymore and turned back.

"Violet... What's wrong?" Margot said as the two girls flanked her.

Violet blushed at where her thoughts had led her and the freckles on her cheeks stood out even more. The two girls giggled. They knew that look well enough by now.

"Violet has a crush on one of those boys from the ship!" Margot squealed her guess.

Violet turned an annoyed look on her friend, delicate brows pinched together. "No, not a boy," she scoffed. "And, not from the ship. But, that witch is gonna wish she had never crossed me."

Charlotte and Margot exchanged an uncertain look. But, then Violet's thin lips slid into a smile and her eyes began to shine. The girls knew that look and simulated it.

Violet was cooking something up, and whatever it was, it was going to be good.

************

Grayson and his gang smirked at the line of wooden two-story shacks that the people here called a town. And, to name it Paradise. It must have been someone's idea of irony.

"Just get what we need. No trouble. Hear me?" Grayson grumbled to a slightly shorter version of himself.

Exeter Grayson looked up at his younger brother's blue eyes and smiled. He looked so much younger than his brother without all the facial hair, or head hair for that matter because he was clean shaven and smooth. But, there was a reason Kent was in charge and not Exeter. Ex often shot and asked questions later. After losing a good amount of money when a mark ended up dead rather than just roughed up, Kent took over to make sure the team got the paydays they deserved.

"No worries, bro. What fun would it be to kick up trouble here?" He chuckled as they stepped into the only store in the town that seemed to big large enough to have the food stores they would need.

The group stalked into the store amid total silence and began perusing the shelves of canned and jarred goods as well as the stacks and sacks of other items. Kent stepped up to the counter to negotiate the transport of all they needed to the ship. The young man looked wearily around at the new customers but didn't protest.

So, when Violet and her cohorts we brave enough to enter the store, they seemed to only attract the attention of the few mercs who meandered among the shelves. Each turned to watch the progress of the delicate beauties and leer their appreciation. It was exactly the reaction Violet had hoped for. With precise planning, the two girls broke off to work their way towards the two youngest mercs leaving the slightly shorter, bald man to Violet. The girls quickly caught the other two up in conversation, making sure to flutter their eyes and blush at all the right moments.

Exeter saw the blond with the violet eyes make her way towards him with a lazy purpose, her hand trailing along the tops of several jars of pickled vegetables trying to look interested in them. But, he knew better. He had seen the careful dispersion of her friends to divert the two jokers on the other side of the store. She wanted something; he just needed to wait.

By the time Violet was in arms reach of Ex, she had turned to smile at him. Even he, who had more experience than those high school boys Kent had brought with them, had to blink a few times to clear his head of her smile and her eyes.

"You know," Violet said in her best simpering voice, "I've only ever seen one man with a head shaved like yours."

Exeter crossed his arms and leaned lightly against the end of the shelves, a lop-sided smile pulling at his lips. "I'm starting a new fashion statement, I guess."

She lowered her eyes and raised her hand to cover her mouth and giggled. "Oh, I don't think two constitutes a fashion statement. Besides," she lowered her voice again coyly, "your eyes are the lightest blue I've ever seen. _His _eyes weren't like anything I've ever seen. Cold and silver." She shivered for emphasis. "Like an animal."

Violet had all of Exeter's attention now, and she smiled to herself as she confirmed her suspicions about the mystery guest of that witch. A quick glance at the other girls showed that they were successfully keeping the other two men occupied. But, when she glanced back at the blue-eyed man in front of her, she was startled. He was nearly on top of her, no longer leaning against the shelf but leaning towards Violet, his eyes turning blue-gray and turbulent. He grabbed Violet by the upper arm, and she gasped, afraid now that her plan might backfire, heart thudding away in her chest.

"Are you sure?" He ground the question out through his clenched jaw. When Violet nodded, he asked, "When? Where?"

Violet shoved her fear down and anger surged up to take its place as she recovered. "Let me go!" she hollered loud enough to get some attention. She yanked her arm free of his grasp and stepped back. Rubbing her arm, she was sure he had left a bruise.

Kent walked up calmly behind his brother and set a calming hand on his shoulder. "What's going on here?" He looked pointedly at his little big brother.

"She says she's seen 'em. Here, on this planet."

Air escaped from between Kent teeth. And to think, he was getting ready to give up the hunt for Richard B. Riddick. He smiled easily, showing his white teeth. "Miss, we have been looking for this man for a long time. He's very dangerous. Any help you could give would be well compensated."

Violet's eyes flashed between the men and then her friends and the clerk readying their order. Without a word, she strode out the door, turning right and right again into a narrow alley between the ramshackle buildings.

Kent and Ex looked at each other for a startled moment and then followed the slight woman outside. When they caught up to her in the shadow of the alley, they knew they were on to something.

"I don't want your money, gentlemen," she smiled at them sweetly. "The woman harboring your... fugitive, what will happen to her?"

Kent shrugged and leaned against the wall. "Normally, we don't bother unless she gets in the way."

Violet considered that for a moment. "What about if you let it slip to Sheriff Lane where you picked him up?"

Exeter was getting antsy, and Kent could feel it. He needed her information or things could get messy. "Well, yes, then the sheriff has to do whatever your laws state."

Violet smiled again, eyes glittering, and Kent was reminded of the serpents of Orion V, beautiful and mesmerizing but deadly. "If you let it drop where you found the man you are looking for to Sheriff Lane, that would be all the payment I require."

Exeter nudged his brother and Kent shrugged again. "Sure, why not."

*******************

The mercs stealthily approached the small unassuming shack that Violet had directed them to. It stood in a small clearing with a brook running alongside it. The band of men kept to the edge of the wood as best they could, surveying the area and waiting for a sign of Riddick or anyone near the house. Everyone knew who stealthy Riddick was and how deadly when cornered. Some crouched, some laid in the thick mat of fallen leaves, but all of them kept perfectly still for over an hour. Surprise was their best chance at this payday, and no one was about to screw it up.

It wasn't until Kent, exhaled noisily that the men began to shift and stretch their twitching muscles. They remained in the treeline for a few more moments making sure that the new noises didn't suddenly gain attention.

"Thomson... you're on watch," Kent said without turning to the young man who nodded and leaned against a tree, rifle tucked at his side.

Kent led the others from the trees, still cautious and watchful, rifles and stun guns held ready. But the closer they approached, the more evident that no one was home. Old wheel marks dug deeply into the now dried mud. Kent made a disgusted sound and turned to the group.

"Viktor... perimeter. Ex... check inside." No one questioned his quiet authority, only nodded before heading off.

Exeter pulled a small rectangular pad from his pack and began heading for the house. He kept his eyes on the display screen while Kent covered him. The door to the crude house was unlocked, no need to break in. They blithely stepped through the door for Exeter to scan the palm computer across the living room. He stepped closer to the kitchen table, the living room chairs and finally into the only bedroom. Lip between his teeth, he made_ hmm-ing_ sounds at the beeps coming from the little machine.

Kent tried to be patient. He hated it when his brother paced and hummed without a word. It usually meant something really good... or really bad.

"What is it?" Kent grumbled impatiently.

"Hold on a sec..." His brother hovered over the display intently, brows furrowed. "It seems... three DNA signatures, two recognized, one not." He tapped the screen a few times still making unintelligible sounds.

"Gotcha!" Exeter exclaimed. "Confirmed - one Richard B. Riddick."

Kent stepped further inside now that the scan was complete and saw the dead fire. Damn it all... he was long gone. When he turned back, Exeter was still playing around with his data pad. "Whatcha got?"

"Hold on... not sure..." He kept tapping and scrolling for another few minutes before he whistled through his teeth. "Double payday!"

Kent strode forward and grabbed the pad. Staring back was a young girl's face which morphed even as he watched into a young woman. Kent read the scrolling lines along the bottom of the time-lapsed mugshot, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

He turned back to his grinning brother. "Are you sure about this?"

Ex nodded, eyes bright. "I checked it and double checked it. The account is still intact and has been accruing interest all these years."

Kent looked again at the amount registering on the screen. It was much more than Riddick's bounty. It was enough to ransom an entire planet. No, make that _two_ planets.

"But, it's a 'live' bounty. No credits if she's dead," Ex continued speaking and almost sounded disappointed. There was a reason Kent was in charge of the crew.

"No matter. One dead, one alive. And, then we can retire for good," Kent spoke, completely confident that this would be the last trip as a merc he ever needed to take. Normally, he would have regretted killing a mark. But, Riddick had a reputation of getting out of tight spots and turning the tables on his captors. No use giving him the chance.

Riddick was cursing the old man, grumbling about the Oldtimer's sense of time peppered liberally with guesses about his heritage, or lack thereof.

Riddick had found the boat after nearly two hours of searching and nearly having given up. It had come loose from its mooring and washed well down the river and up among a layer of dead fall from previous floods. It was dirty and had detritus inside it, but it looked whole. After checking the map again, Riddick decided he couldn't make it all the way on foot. So, he dumped out the dead leaves and sticks and hopped in stripping a long branch to use as a guide. The river wasn't deep; most of the snow melt had already thawed. But, cold and hypothermia wasn't something he could risk right now.

So, Riddick pushed his way down river and tried to maneuver as best he could. He had flown through half of known space in ships to outrun the authorities, but managing the wooden canoe-like boat was kicking his ass. It was harder when the river got deeper near where he had planned to disembark, and he had to fight the current to drag the boat to the correct shore. That set him back even more. So, when the merc ship was a black spot in the sky like some kind of giant beetle, Riddick's cursing grew more vehement. Now, he had to try to get to the ship before he ran out of time, and they took off again. It took another hour of struggling, but he finally made it to shore.

Riddick ran doubling back towards town; all the while staying in the treeline to watch and wait. The ship was larger than most he'd flown, but he could make do. Probably held a full crew of twelve max. He chuckled. Someone had learned from another's mistake. Three of the mercs - two men and one woman - remained behind, grumbling, joking and mock fighting with each other. Three he could take, but he would have to do it quietly. No telling how many filled out the crew. Knowing mercs, however, it probably wasn't a full complement. No need sharing more cuts from his bounty than necessary.

Riddick surveyed the group closely from his hiding spot. They wore an assortment of weapons from small handguns to stunners. One even carried a larger weapon that probably held stun or whiteout grenades. He watched calmly as one man hunkered down on the bottom of the landing bay door to stand guard. The other three took off back inside.

Sticking close to the dappled shadows of the trees, Riddick arced his way around the ship until he was directly behind the guard sitting with his elbows on his knees and looking unhappy about playing watchdog. Riddick's eyes flitted to the ship's windows which were situated at the bridge. He sensed no movement in there, so everyone else must be in the aft of the ship. He'd have to be careful not to alert them until the last possible moment.

Riddick crept forward silently, making sure to stay out of the merc's peripheral vision. He crouched under the bay door and listened, straining with everything he had. The only sounds seemed to be coming from deep inside the cargo bay, items being pushed around and cursed at. They must be stopping for a re-supply, Riddick thought.

Assured that no one was close enough to hear the snapping of the poor merc's neck, Riddick slide out from his hiding place. But, as he reached to grip the man in a hold between his forearms, the merc turned slightly, his eyes wide with the shock of seeing someone so close. It didn't matter though. He had no chance to scream for help before Riddick adjusted his hold and flexed, hearing the satisfying crunch of vertebra. The man's body immediately slumped in his arms and Riddick let out his breath and took a hurried look up the walkway, ears cocked for the sound of pounding boots. No one. The sounds of heavy lifting continued as before.

Carefully, Riddick arranged the body, knees up, head leaning on them, hands folded in his lap. It looked like the merc had just decided to take a nap in the afternoon sun. But, Riddick had to move quickly before someone came to razz the merc for sleeping on the job. Riddick slipped his shivs from their holsters and started up the sloping door, ears listening for any change in the sounds coming from inside. The interior of the cargo bay was dimly lit and smelled musty with crates and no air circulation. He pulled his goggles off to give himself any advantage he could.

Riddick could hear a woman's voice from up ahead. She seemed to be arguing with another merc.

"Come on, Candy. We're starving and Kent won't be back for hours yet," the man's voice whined.

"Fuck you, Ray. I am not your wife to make you food and wait on you," the woman's voice was irritated, but it sounded like this was an old game the two played. "Good thing I'm _not _your wife. I woulda slit your throat a long time ago and made it look like self-defense," she chuckled.

Another man's voice came back at her. "For the love of Hades! You two should be married - you argue enough for it," the gravelly voice complained. "Look, Candy, just throw together something, and I'll make Ray do the dishes."

The woman made a pleased little _hmmm_ and said, "Deal. You know I hate doing the dishes."

The man named Ray seemed to groan, but soon Riddick heard the lighter footsteps of the female moving deeper into the ship as the other men continued shifting crates. That left two to deal with. No problem.

With measured footsteps, Riddick made his way around the crates. It wasn't hard to be quiet; the two men's talking and joking would cover his approach. In a low crouch, he peeked around the edge of one of the plastic crate. The man closest to him had his back towards Riddick. Before he thought about what he was doing, Riddick surged forward from his hiding spot. He grabbed the man around the neck and at the same time slid the shiv to the left of the man's spine. The body stiffened and then went slack in his arms. The larger man came around another line of crates still talking like his buddy would answer. He looked confused in the dimmed room, and it took him a moment to register that his friend was unusually limp but standing and behind him were _silver eyes_...

The merc began to roar and pull his gun, but Riddick flicked the other shiv underhand. It tumbled once, twice and then embedded itself just below the man's jawline. He looked stunned when he fell to his knees and collapsed forward with a loud crash. Riddick pulled the shiv free and let the body drop from his hands. No use being quiet now.

"Ray? Cristoff? What the fuck are you guys -" She stepped down from the main part of the ship to see the two crumbled bodies. In an instant, she reached for her gun, but Riddick kicked it out of her hands from the side.

She whirled on him, crouching in a fighting stance. She registered shock and then satisfaction as she realized that the convict they had been hunting was already on board their ship.

"Richard B. Riddick," she drawled. "There is a promotion for me once I hand your ass over to Kent." She grinned.

"Only one problem, honey." He took pleasure in the scowl she gave him at the use of 'honey.' "You ain't got my ass yet."

"Yet," she said and then there was a blur of motion.

Riddick barely side stepped her kick before it connected with his knee. She was fast, but speed would be her only advantage against his brawn. He back handed her as she recovered from the fouled kick. The force of it snapped her head to the side, but she whipped it around just as fast, a trail of blood escaped the corner of her mouth. And, boy, did she look pissed.

The woman produced a switchblade and launched a series of strikes against him, hands a blur of motion, the clang of metal on metal as Riddick held just the one shiv in his right hand. Riddick stepped back in reflex, trying to get away from the small blade and make her lean into him as well. But, she wasn't falling for it. She was good; he would give her that. Too bad she was a merc. Her anger fueled her movement, and Riddick knew how to take her down.

"So where's my sandwich, sweet cheeks?" he drawled, breathing only a bit faster than normal.

She growled, panting much harder than he was. "You get protein waffles as soon as we drop your dick back in slam."

There was no more talk as she tried to find a hole in his defenses. She tried another kick but left herself open. Riddick slammed his shoulder into her and pinned her to the wall, knife hand pinned by his up and over her head. He sniffed her hair as she struggled. She smelled of sweat and blood and arousal. Killing her would be a shame.

"You'd make some man a good wife... once he beat that temper outta ya," he said, pushing all the buttons he could.

She shrieked helplessly and writhed to get free of him. One hand reached down by her side, and she cried in triumph as she grabbed his balls and squeezed. Riddick gritted his teeth against the gut-wrenching pain and slammed her head against the bulkhead. Her fist loosened only slightly. It took three more tries to get himself free, but he finally did. He threw himself away from her body, and it slid heavily to the floor. Riddick bent in half and breathed through the pain until the white spots in front of his eyes faded. Then he stood up once the wave of nausea passed and winced as he walked. After pulling the shiv free of the merc's neck, he carefully wiped the blood from it and the other onto the man's clothes before making quick work of dumping the bodies off the ship lumped in some bushes. No need to warn any passersby that something was not quite right aboard the _Icraus_.

Fitting himself comfortably in the captain's seat, Riddick remembered another time he had stolen away in a ship that wasn't his own. His wicked grin turned to a grimace the next instant as he remembered another flight, escaping a deadly dark planet and the girl with a boy's crew cut who wouldn't stop asking him questions. Riddick shook himself to get rid of the unwanted memories, still too raw. He didn't want to think about the past anymore.

Now Riddick had to haul ass before the rest of the crew returned to find their friends crow bait. After punching in the sequence for start up, he also located the display for the nav-sat coordinates. They would give Riddick an idea of where the mercs where based, and he could avoid that region of space as best he could. But, when he touched it, the screen flashed to an holo-image of the last file the ship-board computer had been asked to retrieve.

It was a 'wanted' listing - something Riddick was all too familiar with. But, the image calmly turning to a give 360-view was not an image of Riddick. It was a time-lapsed photo the was oddly inaccurate but represented the person moderately well. A person he knew quite well. Quickly, Riddick's eyes scanned the description and registered planet. When he got to the live-only bounty amount, air whistled between his teeth.

"Crap!" he swore under his breath and angrily jabbed a button that made the engines slowly quiet.

"Change of plans," he muttered to himself and unbuckled the captain's chair to haul the bodies back inside. He couldn't go anywhere and leave Dinalla and Puck to those cut-throat bastards.


	13. Unexpected Callers

**Chapter 12**

Unexpected Callers

_AN: Thanks for the quick read, Amita! Here comes the chapter before the finale. The story was meant to be short and bitter-sweet. Enjoy!_

The trek back home had been unusually quiet. Not that Puck ever spoke, but usually Dinalla would point out the plants and trees that had medicinal uses and Puck would point out the scurrying of animals among them. But not today. Today Puck's chin was firmly planted to his chest in a perpetual pout, arms locked over his thin chest.

Dinalla brooded quietly in the driver's seat, lost to her own thoughts. Puck stole glances at her from the corner of his eye but didn't interrupt her silent castigation. She was silently kicking herself for treating Rick so poorly before he left without a good bye. He had never threatened her or Puck. He had never been anything but helpful. And, if he had been mysterious about his past or lied about it, she couldn't begrudge him. Both she and her mother had also kept details of their past from people. If anyone knew...

A shiver crept up Dinalla's spine, and she dismissed it as bad memories of her past, another life, another home. No use changing things that couldn't be changed. She just wished she had had time to apologize for her reaction. Shaking herself free of her recriminations, she finally looked over Puck who darted his eyes away from hers.

"Who needs the old grump anyway?" she said with more confidence than she felt. "It's always been you and me, and we've done just fine on our own." She smiled and scanned their surroundings as early evening leached color from the woods around them.

But when she looked back at Puck, his arms were still crossed over his chest. Dinalla sighed and frowned. Puck seemed genuinely fond Rick - or Riddick - and it had seemed reciprocal. For a moment, Di hated that Riddick would leave without at least saying good-bye to Puck if not her.

A sudden thought made Dinalla smile.

"You know, I think we still have some of Mrs. Montgomery's canned cherries. When we get home, I'll whip up a big batch of cherry cobbler and we'll eat it for dinner. What do you think?"

She looked expectantly at Puck who usually responded to sweets like any 10 year old boy did. But, his chin still had a stubborn tilt as he refused to meet her eyes.

Di sighed and they rode again in silence for a few more miles until she had another idea. It was something her mom would do when she was a child, and Di would to do Puck when he was smaller.

"What sport do elephants like to play most?" It was an old joke from Di's home world and one that took explaining when she'd first told it to Puck who'd never seen an elephant except in one of her books. But, he'd always loved listening to the ridiculous riddles.

"Squash!" Dinalla was rewarded with a sideways glance from Puck. "Why do elephants paint their toenails red?" It was an old, silly joke and predictable but Puck's body slowly turned to face Di as his expectation grew. "So they can hide in a strawberry patch. Why do elephants hide in strawberry patches?" She found herself smiling, feeling encouraged.

"So they can jump out and stomp on people. Why do elephants like to stomp on people?" Puck's eyes were brillant and focused on Di, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"That is how they play squash!"

Giggles erupted from Puck and he clutched his stomach like it was the funniest joke in the world. Dinalla's laughter joined his at the simple delight the boy found in her silliness. Impulsively, she grabbed Puck with one arm by his shoulders and crushed him to her side, kissing his temple.

"Almost home. One cherry cobbler dinner coming up!"

In another hour, their small wagon clattered in front of their cabin. Puck had been in a better mood for the rest of the ride but now he remained stock still in his seat.

"Come on and help me unhitch the mules, Puck," she grumbled when he didn't immediately help her. "I know you're tired; me too. Sooner we get this done..."

Her voice trailed off as she followed Puck's stare into the treeline where a shadow was emerging, a tall, well-built shadow. Riddick? she wondered briefly, even a little hopefully.

The grizzled face that met hers was not Riddick. White block teeth gleamed in the faint starlight from within his thick beard and a small, unusual pistol rested by his hip, pointed at Puck.

"Welcome home... Severina Di'nallarhon du Montreal."

Di's blood went cold and she fought every instinct to turn and run, leaving Puck behind. She schooled her face into a pleasant smile and registered more shadows joining the first.

"I think you're mistaken. I've never heard that name before. Have you, Puck?" she looked expectantly at him.

He shook his head without ever taking his eyes off the bearded man. He nodded to someone at his side who withdraw a slim electronic device and aimed it Dinalla's way.

"Positive match, boss," he said once the machine beeped.

"Puck, run!" she hollered before making a hard dash to her right, aiming for the thin line of trees leading to the river.

Not watching if Puck obeyed her, she made it two steps before something big slammed her to the ground. All her breath exploded from her lungs, her vision went black as she fought for air.

"Goddammit! What part of 'unharmed' did you miss, idiot?"

Through the fog in her brain, Dinalla heard the words a moment before the crushing weight was removed from her. Blessed air filled her lungs again, making her throat burn slightly in her haste to breathe. Weakly, she rose to her hands and knees and turned to look through her heavy fall of hair. The bearded man stood over her while the giant that had tackled her got up to step back, his lips twisted in a scowl, dark eyes wishing he hadn't been stopped.

"The kid's gone, Kent!" the man who had used the scanning device said.

Kent, the man with the beard, turned fury blazing in his eyes. "Find him. Now! Use an IR scan!"

The man he spoke to gave him back a 'duh' stare. "I can't lock on anything. A bunch of red dots, animals probably, are messing with my readings."

Kent puffed out an angry breath before turning to Dinalla and grabbing her roughly by her chin. He twisted her so she sat on her butt, arms behind her to hold up her body. She bit her lip to refrain from screaming.

"Where would he go?"

"T-town... for help," she ground out finally and was released. Her jaw throbbed where his fingers had cruelly dug in.

"Viktor, track that kid before he reaches town or our goose is cooked. You know what to do."

The man called Viktor, bared his teeth in a smile and turned on his heel to whichever way Puck had run.

"No! He's just a boy. You have me, leave him be!" Di begged but stopped as soon as Kent turned back to her.

"Yes, we have you and you are our retirement plan. Between you and your friend Riddick, we could buy a small planet to retire on." He laughed and Di blanched.

"New problem, boss," said the man holding the palm computer.

Kent rolled his eyes. "Now what, Ex?"

"The ship... No one's responding." He punched at something on the screen. "It's still there but no one's on comms."

Kent went to a frenzy of cursing which made Di blush at first until she realized what it meant - Riddick had made it. For some reason she wanted to cheer, but she kept her face neutral as Kent and the other man, Ex, turned to face her. She didn't like the determined look either one of them gave her.

"Maybe it's not such a problem," Kent said and then moved to whisper to the man beside him.

The next instant Ex was sauntering away, and Di was pulled roughly to her feet to be thrust inside the cabin.

Riddick had already skirted the town as they last light of day glowed over the horizon. Sweat trickled down his neck and his shirt was already soaked. He had a fleeting thought that getting caught after dark dripping wet was a good way to get hypothermia but he couldn't worry about that right now.

Expertly clinging to the shadows a long the small stream, Riddick knew he had to be getting closer to Di's cabin but distances in this place were misleading. At each bend of the river he thought he should be able to see the clearing were he had entered Dinalla's life.

The crash of branches, the snap of a twig and Riddick dropped belly first against a fallen tree trunk. Silently, he propped his goggles on his head using every ounce of enhanced night vision to scan the area.

More snapped twigs, huffing of breath... the rhythm short and strained. Someone taking a nightly jog through the woods? Riddick thought wryly. He heard the pounding of feet, even the frantic bird-like heartbeat come closer to Riddick's hiding place. Slowly he registered another set of footfalls, longer strides but farther away.

Riddick crouched silently, arms whipping out and around the small boy's body, hand instantly latching over his mouth to stop the sound of surprise.

Puck's eyes were the size of dinner plates as he stared at Riddick, tears streaked clean spots along his dirty face. His arms and legs had dozens of tiny cuts. After a few heartbeats Puck relaxed in Riddick's arms and looked relieved, so he removed his hand from the small boy's mouth to put a finger over his own lips, signaling silence. Puck nodded abruptly.

Branches and twigs crunched more and more loudly, the larger man's breath raspy and loud in the still evening. Riddick palmed his shivs and stilled, feeling the man run ever closer rather than really using his hearing or sight.

Riddick launched himself from a crouch to stand in front of the man, shivs scissoring at neck level, and then momentum carrying him flying out of the way. The man ran another few steps while blood washed down his shirt before collapsing into a gargling heap. Calmly, Riddick wiped his shivs clean on the dying man's clothes.

Turning back to Puck, he stopped as still as a statue. Puck watched as the man on the carpet of leaves burbled his last breath. The young boy's skin was pale and sweaty in the weak light, eyes bulging in horror.

So different..., Riddick thought before he wiped his memory clean.

"Puck," Riddick hissed once and then again to get the boy's attention. "Dinalla?"

Puck seemed to focus on that one question and pointed back the way he'd come holding up four fingers.

The big man crouched eye to eye so that Puck stared into his glistering silver eyes. "You did good, Puck. I'll take care of it. Get to town and hide till this is over."

Puck frantically shook his head in the negative until Riddick huge hand gripped the fragile shoulder tightly.

"Listen to me... If you come with me, I'll be more worried about keeping you safe. If I'm doing that, I can't focus on -" killing those merc bastards "- getting Dinalla out safely. Now go!" He turned Puck sharply by the shoulder and shoved him toward town while at the same time standing up and loping along the river to Di's place.

And he was really hoping the mercs hadn't left yet because he was in the mood to hunt.


	14. Three Mistakes

**Chapter 13**

Three Mistakes

**AN: **This chapter and the next would not be possible without my Beta reader and good friend, Amita - Thank you for all your patience and support! Readers, this is the second to the last chapter. The end is coming and hopefully will include some surprises. Enjoy! Minor changes/edits 4/7/11.

Darkness yawned menacingly on all sides as Riddick stalked silently through the woods, keeping his profile low to the ground. Even in the inky dark, Riddick easily read the trail Puck and the other man had left in their chase, but Riddick kept himself at an angle to the tracks. Four men held Dinalla, and it would only take one to put a bullet in her brain. Not likely they would considering the live bounty on her but... desperation made men cut their losses if they could.

_Time to even the odds._

Finally, Riddick recognized up ahead the break in the trees that surrounded the cabin and stopped to crouch in a deep shadow, carefully controlling his breathing, the adrenaline of the hunt making his blood sing. Still 50 yards from the slice of weeds and dirt leading to Dinalla's door, Riddick stalked around the perimeter in a wide birth, keeping as much of the trees and brush as possible between him and the no-man's land.

Puck had said there were four men remaining at the cabin. That was the mercs first mistake, bringing so few to protect Dinalla and capture one Richard B. Riddick.

Silver-glinted eyes scanned the tree-line around the shack, analyzing every inch, recognizing what was part of the natural landscape and what wasn't. There... to the east side of the cabin, a mass darker than the bush in front of it. Riddick's vision telescoped down, his shined gaze giving him the advantage. The man hunched into the shrub, trying to conform his body to the rough shape of the plant. But, he still showed up easily under Riddick's intense scrutiny. The merc remained motionless but tension radiated from his body.

'_Professionals,'_ he scoffed. They thought they knew what they were doing when they really didn't have a clue what they were up against. But professionals meant these were definitely mercs, well armed, and in it strictly for the money. They were probably already mentally spending their credits for the bank roll they'd receive with Dinalla's and his bounties.

Only an amateur would assume that the mercs would have men just on the ground. Riddick's night vision shifted higher, scanning along the cabin and its thick trunked trees with their high branches. He almost missed the second merc - _almost -_ a black on black shadow molded against the smokeless chimney, dull glint of metal revealing the rifle he held. It was a fine vantage for sniping, with a 300 degree view of the property, and the one in the bushes covered the sniper's blind spot. But black on black and bushes couldn't hide you completely from a man with shined eyes.

It was also clear they expected to get the drop on Riddick as he tried to make an entry into the clearing, but that was more poor planning on their part. If they'd bothered to study his record, they would have known head on wasn't his style. He grinned. They had obviously failed to read up on the Big Evil. _Second mistake._ Advantage: Riddick.

Riddick pressed himself the deeper into the dark and shifted silently back the way he had come. His form glided into the depths of the forest, so he could work his way around to where he could use the shadows of the trees and woodpile to cover his approach. He slid silently over the ground, moving swiftly but carefully to avoid stepping on dried leaves or branches.

Everyone had secrets. But what secrets could Dinalla hold that required such an incredible payout? He remembered bits of her story… a violent, domineering father in a system far from Paradise... Her mother dying of cancer, a disease which had been all but eradicated on civil planets, rather than risk being found and exposing her daughter's location... If her father had that kind of power and could put up that kind of bounty, he must be loaded… as in buy-a-small-planet-out-of-petty-cash type loaded. Obviously, he would do anything to return his daughter to him. _Meglomaniac much?_

It wasn't dark, not to Riddick. He could see every movement around the clearing, his animal-like sense flaring out, using his sense of smell, hearing… even his body seemed to tune in to the slightest vibrations in the air turning him into more of a predator than a human being. But, he only sensed the two men he'd already accounted for.

Riddick timed his advance carefully as the men scanned the parts of the yard where he wasn't. He kept to the irregular shadows of the trees and then to the woodpile, finally angling in to put his back against the house. He crouched below the bedroom window, listening. He heard the irregular tromp of heavy shoes on the wood flooring. Sounded like only one man remained inside. That meant there could be one more left outside.

The footsteps suddenly stopped and a gruff voice rumbled through the slats of the cabin walls.

"What do you mean 'they're all dead'?" the man's voice exploded. He paused for only a heartbeat, obviously talking with someone via a comm unit. "Fuck 'em! Take the skiff back here a-sap. If they're ghosted, that means Riddick knows we're on to him. I need you here. NOW."

Riddick mentally cursed. The last merc had made a run for the ship and discovered the crew dead. Once these bastards realized communications were down ship-side, they had sent someone to check it out… and found the bodies of the rest of the crew. That created complications Riddick didn't need.

The footsteps started up again in an agitated staccato and grumbled cursing drifted to Riddick ears. He would have liked more time to make an escape on the mercs' cruiser.

Just as Riddick shifted silently to move away, he heard Dinalla's unmistakable voice and froze in his tracks.

"You're being stupid. Take me, cash in my bounty and leave Rick alone," her tone was pleading but stern. "I am worth more than him, dead or alive."

The male chuckled at her statement. "You don't get it, _woman_." He said the last like curse. "Your bounty is my retirement plan. And bringing that convict in, I can retire at the top of my game. No way I'm giving you both up… not the biggest bounty in history _and_ the Big Evil himself."

There was a pause and Riddick imagined that Dinalla had no clue what kind of reputation he had among the mercs.

After a heartbeat more of silence. "I won't believe that about Rick," Di's voice was very quiet.

The man laughed again, louder, more coarsely. "You had no idea what you were sleeping with, did you?" Riddick heard the lewdness in the merc's voice and bristled, fists clenching.

Riddick retreated to the shadows again, reassessing the situation. He had to get Dinalla out of there now. With the other merc coming back by transport, he didn't have time to finesse the situation to his advantage. He had to make a big move and take out these three and get Dinalla and Puck away from this rock. He couldn't let her turn herself in… not for a convict like him.

Resolved, Riddick slipped up to the corner to the house. The man behind the bush was facing away from the cabin, back to the sniper to protect the man on the roof's blind spot, but that left the guard with a blind spot of his own - a no man's land between the guard and the wall where Riddick was never intended to be. The convict cautiously padded over the packed dirt, careful to keep the chimney between himself and the sniper on the roof. Sliding a shiv free several yards from his target, Riddick stalked his prey in broad moonlight. A really dumb move leaving a blind spot this big between them. The idiot must've thought he'd be able to hear if Riddick was sneaking up on him. Or maybe they never thought he'd get this close to start with. They had all seriously underestimated him. The beast is Riddick smiled at their foolishness. _Third mistake..._

Riddick was going to make noise. It would happen as this bastard died. It would get the attention of the sniper who wouldn't resist the urge to check on his friend, thus exposing himself for Riddick to take out. That would make more noise and hopefully get anyone inside the cabin out into the open. He had to take Dinalla's captor out quickly before the merc made it back from the ship.

Riddick's eyes locked on to the base of the man's skull as it tracked slowly left and right. His focus narrowed down to a fine point, heartbeat dropping, breathing evening out, every step stretching across the seconds as if in slow motion.

The last second before Riddick struck, the man seemed to sense something behind him and began to turn. Riddick moved faster. His left arm wrapped around the guard's neck to grab his jaw as his shiv hand gripped the man's shoulder. Then those hands whipped in opposite directions. The snapping of the guard's neck sounded like a tree being felled in the night. Still in motion, Riddick spun, casting the body aside as his eyes sought movement behind the chimney.

The sniper twisted and rose over the edge of the chimney, ruining his perfect camouflage but that crack had been loud and unmistakable. The rifle swung around to take aim at Riddick, but it was already too late. To see his partner's position, to get his rifle in position, he had to expose himself. Moonlight gave Riddick's blade a semblance of lighting as it flashed through the air. It was all timing. If he were off by a fraction of a second Riddick knew he would be the one dead, but he had seen this play out already in his head and he was faster. The shiv sunk into the sniper's flesh just above the Adam's apple, head jerking back from the force. The rifle smashed against the chimney, and then clattered down the wood shingles as the hands that held it went slack. It was closely followed by a body as the sniper fell back against the roof and then slid down the slope and over the edge in a rain of pine needles. The merc dropped with a hard _whomp_ to the ground and didn't move.

The hot scent of blood from the first man hit Riddick's nostrils and sent his pulse racing. The predator in him reveled in the hunt and the killing. The quick kill was more mercy than these pieces of meat deserved, but Riddick didn't have time to play.

But Riddick was already moving, had actually never stopped moving. His feet flew over the ground as he raced around the side of the house to the front. He skidded to a crouch as the door slammed open so hard the small structure rattled and light poured into the yard.

Dinalla was pushed out first, followed by a man with a gun aimed at her back. Her shocked face barely registered as Riddick leaped, using instinct to guide him, and yanked the gun from the man threatening her before it could be used on either of them. The speed of the attack may have caught the man off guard, but he recovered quickly. Riddick felt a meaty hand grab his shoulder as he flew by. It foiled Riddick's controlled roll so both men went sprawling. Dinalla screamed, her body thrown clear of the steps to land hard on her back, her breath exploding from her lungs. But, Riddick couldn't hear over the roaring in his own ears. This man was more experienced and a born brawler. Riddick had to take him down quickly.

The large merc and Riddick rolled together in the dirt, debris flying around them. Riddick reached for his other shiv and was head butted so hard, his normally good night vision winked out for a second... just long enough for a large boot to kick the shiv from his hand. Instantly, Riddick raised his hands like a boxer, blocking a swing that might have leveled him and swung around to land his own punch in the merc's left kidney. Both men began spinning, punching, kicking in the melee. Flesh and fists met, the air was punctuated by grunts and muffled cursing as each fought to get the other at a disadvantage.


	15. Fade to Black

**CHAPTER 14**

Fade to Black

_AN: This is it - the end. Looking forward to the feedback. Hugs and appreciation to Amita4ever and all my readers._

Riddick felt every blow this guy landed, the pain turning his vision red. Something snapped, and he realized his newly healed ribs had cracked again. Breathing instantly got harder, each draw of air a burning pain. Jaw clenched tight enough to grind teeth, he rolled the merc, straddling his body and raising his arm back to punch at the throat, to crunch his larynx and end this.

Dinalla's sudden shriek followed by a gunshot had Riddick whipping around to see a new merc standing in the clearing. This guy was tall and lean, rough stubble crowding his jaw, hair lanky from lack of washing and a mean glint to his eye. One hand gripped Puck and the other a pistol aimed at the boy's head. Dinalla stood only feet away, her body trembling, obviously wanting to go to Puck but afraid the guy holding the gun would see it as an attack and kill Puck.

The merc in the skiff had somehow intercepted Puck on his way to town and parked well away from the clearing or Riddick would have heard their approach. The tall man had a mad gleam in his eye that Riddick recognized as a man who enjoyed his work. No doubt that this prick would shoot the boy without a second thought. After all, there was no bounty on Puck; he was just an innocent pawn.

"Get up and lemme see your hands," the thin man ground out, pushing the muzzle of the gun harder against Puck whose face was tear stained but had a stubborn set to the jaw. "Make any other move, and I put a bullet in the kid's head. He ain't worth nothing to me."

Riddick's jaw tightened, but he got off the burly man whose face looked like he'd tried to kiss a meat grinder.

Riddick's thoughts whirred, calculating and analyzing the situation in seconds. Escape at this moment was still possible, but Puck might pay the price. Di would be left in merc hands. But he'd be free... in a ship... and he'd have a hell of a lead by the time they got someone down here to pick them up. This crew would never find him again. Once they collected on Di's bounty, they might not even try. He could leave them both to the mercy of the mercs and steal away on the ship. Or he could risk staying... try to get them both out of the mercs' hands and Dinalla away from what equated to a prison sentence of her own. Taking on two other runners would decrease his own chances of getting away. Once the word was out the Dinalla was alive and on the run, every merc in the known universe would be on her tail for the fantastic payload she would bring. He'd have to dump her and the boy on the next backwater they came to and wish them luck – good or bad as long as he could keep ahead of the damn mercs. Logic dictated he cut his losses now.

_Fuck logic_, Riddick thought.

The large man got up from the ground, grunting at each stage of the process. "Damn, Ex. Good timing."

The man called Ex gave a half-smile. "Now we got 'em both, Kent, and he saved us from having to split the credits except between the two of us."

Kent grimaced at those words and trudged to where his pistol lay after Riddick had surprised him. He leveled the weapon at Riddick. "You cost me my crew, convict. Dead pays less but ain't near as much trouble." His grimace turned to a wicked grin, and he straightened his gun arm, finger tightening on the trigger

Time sped up like a holo-vid on fast-forward. Riddick would only be able to piece everything together later at times when memory swamped him and called his sins home.

Riddick started to shift his weight for a roll as something blurred to his right. A gunshot sounded in the still night as something hit him full frontal in mid-crouch. Riddick's lungs shook from the force of the impact and his entire body jarred like a tree felled in the forest. Breath exploded from his chest. His head bounced like a flat ball on the leaves a few times. Vision winked to black, and all systems went off-line in the space of a heartbeat.

A huge rattling breath and the burning pain from his busted ribs signaled Riddick's systems restarting, brain returning to alertness. But, something heavy lay over his whole body, and he still couldn't see.

There was more shooting, shouts, the tramp of too many feet to count easily as Riddick lay assessing his injuries. Everything hurt and his first thought was, _Not shot. _He'd expected to be hit, somewhere. He'd had no time to completely avoid Kent's bullet. _Too much pain all over to be shot._ He was instantly thankful for that small mercy.

The form on top of him whimpered. Something hot and viscous ran over his stomach. Riddick pushed impatiently at the thing pinning him down, but it wasn't really pinning him. It rolled away easily, limply, and the hair that had been obscuring his vision fell away, so Riddick could see again. He looked right into the glassy, pained eyes of Dinalla.

"Di?"

"Rick… you alright?" Her voice was strained but strong. Her concern showing clearly on her dirt-smeared face. Leaves clung to her hair and framed her delicate face.

Chaos reigned around them but didn't seem to be able touch them. They existed in a void removed from time and space.

Riddick looked down at the blood covering his torso and probed but found no holes, no scrapes that accounted for such volume.

And then he looked at Dinalla laying in the dirt of her yard. The front of her dress was dark and glossy in the moonlight. A hole, a gaping, glistening wound with raw meat ringing it, looked like a fist had punched through her torso.

"No." Riddick tore off his shirt and pressed it hard to the gaping hole. Dinalla screamed, her face growing whiter under the poor light of the moon.

"Why would you do that?" Riddick accused. "For a convict?... for me?"

Suddenly, Puck was beside them, his eyes glittering and huge in his small cherub face. Dinalla gripped his smaller hand tightly. The smile she gave him was strained and tight from pain.

"He was… gonna kill you," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper now. "My bounty… alive." She smiled up at Riddick, satisfaction through the pain. "Not live… like that… again."

The last word was so faint that Riddick had to read her lips to understand. Comprehension rolled over him like a storm. How many times had he thought the same, decided on the same end if cornered? The fact that he'd always fought his way out to survive again was only a cruel trick of the Fates.

Something burned in Riddick chest and then turned cold, searing its way up his throat. His roar cut through the disarray swirling around them, freeze framing the sheriff and men from the village and the two mercs restrained and disarmed in the clearing. No one spoke; the only sound was the heavy breathing of men catching their breaths after a fight.

"Puck..." Dinalla's voice broke the silence as tears ran down her face. "So sorry…" she murmured.

Her chest shuddered as she tried to breathe, red seeping now from her lips. The young boy held her hand, tears streaming down his cheeks, but he made no sound.

"...sorry." The word came again as one long shuddering breath, and Riddick watched those deep, compassionate eyes dim by degrees.

Riddick stood, his hands fisted so tightly his knuckles popped. Cold rage burned through his veins.

Puck tugged insistently at Di's hand as if his will would make her rise again. Ambrose stepped from the crowd and grabbed the boy, hauling him back, away from her body.

"Come on, boy. I'll take you home, to my house," he said in his baritone. Tears ran down his cheeks into his ruddy beard.

Only then did Puck make a sound. "Mmmmaaaaaaa..."

He fought Ambrose, a man nearly five times his weight, and succeeded in breaking loose to cover Di's body with his own. He screamed over and over...

"...mmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

Ambrose bear hugged the tiny orphan and carried the kicking, screaming boy away and out of the clearing. The horrible screams faded among the trees like a banshee wailing.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

Crouching beside Dinalla, the sheriff removed his hat before leaning over to close her eyelids. "She was one of us, no matter what people say. A good woman, that one."

The old man stood up ignoring the popping of his old knees and turned on Riddick. His face was hard, light eyes stern. He saw Riddick's silvery eyes locked on the cuffed forms of Kent and Ex. Before Riddick knew what he was doing, he'd stepped towards them, only to be blocked by the sheriff's rifle.

"Listen, son," the sheriff said, leaning into Riddick. "These two are responsible for kidnapping and murder, as I see it. We all saw… Dinalla get shot by that one." He pointed to the one called Kent. "We still lynch people here for that sorta thing." His smile was grim and knowing.

Riddick's gaze swung back to the last two mercs. He had no worries that these men would never make it off world. And their days on this world would be short. Primitive but effective justice. If he took matters into his own hands and tore them apart like he wanted to, he would have to fight his way through the entire town.

It was past time to go. _Shoulda left when I had the chance_, Riddick thought and then cut it off before it could lead him down a dark path to other memories.

"You gonna arrest me?" Riddick asked.

"What for?" The sheriff's gravelly voice was harsh. "Violet told one of my deputies 'bout a stranger with Dinalla, and I figured these thugs were up to no good when they started asking questions." He nodded absently at the mercs. "We found them holding Puck and Di hostage. They shot Di in front of a dozen of my men before we could charge them. That's murder, plain and simple." He spat the last words.

Tension eased slightly from Riddick's shoulders. He'd been prepared to fight his way out as always, but something about the ornery old sheriff told him he took care of his people as best he could.

Riddick looked down at Dinalla. Someone had tossed a coat over her upper body and face, but blood seeped darkly into the fabric.

The sheriff followed Riddick's gaze and his lip tightened. "Don't worry 'bout her. We take care of our own. Now go. We don't care for off-worlders here. Always makin' trouble." He glared at Riddick once more, long and hard. Then abruptly he swung around to holler orders at his men holding the mercs to head back to town. A man driving a wagon drove up as another man moved to pick up Dinalla's body, cradling it to his chest like a child.

There was nothing left to hold him here. With no belongings, nothing but memories of the warm little cabin, Riddick ran... and ran. He vaguely aimed in the direction of the ship but half way there his legs gave out, his chest was crushed in a vise of pain, and he crashed into the dirt and detritus. He lay there breathing hard, something squeezing his lungs and, as if he had one, his heart.

Some people weren't meant for so-called civilized society. Some caused trouble or chased it. A rare few brought death and violence everywhere they went.

Sometimes Fate was a motherfucker.

The sweat on Riddick's body was long cooled, his heartbeat at rest and the pain in his chest a dull, stabbing ache by the time the western horizon turned from dark inky black to morning gray. The stiffness in his body told him he had laying there for hours. He pulled himself to his feet, slowly, cautiously, muscles flexing and gliding under tawny skin, his cracked ribs a painful stitch in his side. With renewed determination, he stalked towards the ship still squatting innocuously in the clearing

Inside the cockpit, Riddick slammed the harness home and stabbed blunt fingers at the console, plotting a course to deep space.

"Get. Out," he growled, never deviating from his programming sequence.

A scuffle of feet on metal... a ragged sniffle from the shadows.

"I'm on the run, kid. Back there? Not the first time, not the last. No life for you."

A tiny foot stomped.

Riddick slung the captain's chair around so fast Puck recoiled like he'd been struck.

"GO! NOW! I don't have time for sniveling kids!" Riddick's voice bounced inside the tiny space, chasing Puck out of the cockpit, out of the ship and echoed in the boy's ears all the way back to town.

It took several minutes for Riddick to unfurl his fisted hands. Half-moon bloody welts dotted his shaking palms, but he swiveled around and punched the last codes for a launch sequence. Vibrations from the engines gathering power rattled into his body and the craft lifted, angling away from the rising sun and aiming into the glittering dark.

Only once the abyss of space surrounded him again did his trembling cease.

The planet of Paradise grew smaller as the craft powered through the void. Riddick thought bitterly of that name. Someone's pipedream and now just another nightmare for him.

_No such thing as friend… not now, not ever._


	16. Upcoming New Story

After a few years hiatus struggling with an original story between switching jobs, a new fanfic has burned its way into my brain; this time a Black Dagger Brotherhood story (JR Ward's creation). Like The Furyan Returned, it wrote itself. Hopefully, that means I have the time to get it out of my head. Here's a brief summary… Hope you like. Look for it soon in the Misc. Books section. Tentative title is Lover Redeemed. ~Starnyx 12/18/13

A love story of addiction and redemption set after Lover At Last – Dhurge is a soldier for Xcor who seeks to overthrow the rightful king of the vampires, Wrath. Wrath has the proof he needs finally to execute Xcor and destroy his Band of Bastards. As one of the Bastards, Dhurge will probably be put to death, after a brutal interrogation, if the Black Dagger Brotherhood ever get their hands on him. But, he does just that when he finds a pretrans female at a bus station, overdosed and clearly hallucinating.

Darla is a 24-year-old junkie hanging on to the underbelly of Caldwell, New York. Having grown up on the streets, she's seen things that would make the hardest Caldie cop queasy. It's New Year's Eve when Darla finds herself on the Caldie bus station restroom floor shooting up her next fix. As she sinks into what she thinks is her last sunset haze, a hulking angel appears and, suddenly, she doesn't want to die. For better or worse, she makes a decision that could save her life and condemn another's.


End file.
